The sun's almost up over the hill,
and four young raccoons, their shift nearly over, forage under the bird feeder,
their busy legs still wet from a romp in the birdbath.
They look straight ahead,
their small hands in constant motion as they grope for another morsel,
a black oil sunflower seed that the birds left behind.
A slight disturbance sends them scrambling up the nearest tree,
before they reverse their direction and run for the shelter of the woods.
The sun is up, the night crew gone, and the day crew has started their shift.
