I would wander to windows
many times each day
eyes on the woods
behind our blue house.
I could rely on steady, sturdy trees,
erect shadows striping the earth.
Even though they were bare,
bulging buds held promise.
Eyes on the woods,
squirrels, birds, deer,
an occasional fox
crunching through the leaves,
the colorless view would
transform to red, yellow, green.
Eyes on the woods,
a squirrel dared to bury
his treasure in a blue flower pot,
stem and blossoms shriveled.
Later I watched him
from the kitchen window
dig up his hidden prize.
Lois Perch Villemaire is the author of “My Eight Greats,” a family history in poetry and prose. Her work has appeared in such places as ONE ART, The Ekphrastic Review, The Blue Mountain Review, and several anthologies. Lois researches family connections, enjoys fun photography, and propagates African violets.
