We call her Mama Squirrel
because all these little babies
we know came from her

Every night we sit out
wait for her to show
mangy patches and swollen eye

“Hey Mama” we call
and throw her a handful
of raw peanuts

Some she eats
some she stuffs
and runs

Not to bury them
but instead to offer
to her neighbortree friends

Mama’s Peanut Kitchen
has been running
for three or so years now

Feeding scraggly squirrels
Bluejays and an occasional raccoon
Mama don’t discriminate

And when the summer comes to a close
and Mama checks her larder
she’s none the worse

for having shown a little compassion