The Wise Squirrel

I stare out the window of my car

This is where I like to think

Parked by the bridge at the park

I can hear the water go by

The birds singing

I see nature all around

In the trees, the grass and flowers

This is where I can concentrate

I ruminate about my future

And where I want to be

Which path to take

If I want to stay

A squirrel goes by in a chatter

As if to tell me, “Trust your instincts.”

Now if I can just figure out

What those instincts are…

6 thoughts on “The Wise Squirrel”

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