The squirrel

So, I’m watching this squirrel

And he shouldn’t be here

He knows it

I know it

But he’ll still persevere.

He’s dreaming of trees

Leaves and branches and such

Of squirrels like him

He’s dreaming of nuts.

He didn’t think there’d be concrete

Didn’t plan for these streets

He never imagined

They would make him complete.

Now I can’t help but watch him

And I know he sees me.

I wonder if he wonders

If I miss the trees.