Saturday, August 17, 2013

Late Breakfast




























By nature, he's not a creature of the light, but on this particular morning, 

a young raccoon's hunger overcame his caution. 

He made his way, nervously, along the deck railing toward the bird feeder. 






Sans bark, it was a bit tricky to hang on...

































but the black oil sunflower seeds made it well worth the effort.


























"Is that my mother calling?"






























The small creature went to dismount, 

and found that getting into something can be easier than getting out of it.  

It was a long way down.

He managed, finally, to navigate to the deck and down the steps

before making a dash for his den tree, 

late to bed.

We're leaving him with a poem Don wrote for our grandson.

The little raccoon might want to study up.








All Night Diner

The eastern sky, with crescent moon,
is solid black, which suits the coon.

He hunts at night, and finds his snacks
little creatures must watch their backs.

His menu's long; he does not fuss
his diet is omnivorous.

Some crickets now, with some wild plums
then some birdseed, before light comes.

More bites, a burp, and then he's gone
to his den tree at early dawn.


Don Smiley