Fresh off a winter of buried nuts and long naps,
the furry little beast with cute, tufted ears
has come down off his tree to sit next to the bike path
that runs between Jamaica plain and the rest of Boston.
A path I battled a flat tire on for an extra hour on my way home last night,
in search of my bed
only to find myself deserting it not 4 hours hence
to repair my broken wheel
and hurriedly retrace my path back to a place
I sorely did not want to be.
Here the tiny creature waits,
watching a lone walker several hundred feet away before turning
and eyeing me with his glossy pupils.
My thoughts stared him down
willing him to leave our meeting till another day
but instead he crouched,
and waited until I was near parallel with his position,
adjacent to this pavement now bumpy from the tree roots
burrowing beneath it.
Suddenly he sprung!
Out onto the path and directly into my turning wheel,
reeling around and colliding again with my foot,
then scampered off to safer foliage.
There's no art in that.
He's just dumb.
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