To a Squirrel

 

Paused behind the apple tree,

I watch you, and you watch me,

Taut and trim by blade and leaf,

I can catch your features, thief,

Stopping as you snatch supplies,

Do you know me, fur and eyes?

Do you fear me, tail and feet?

Will you fight or flit retreat?

Will I pounce and will you die?

Who will move first, you or I?

Art of a Mathematician