Sunday, April 23, 2017

NaPoWriMo 2017, Day 23, an Animal Poem


 
Ground Squirrel Running
 
I think that I shall never see
A rodent as lovely as the
little ground squirrel that crossed my path**
 
So hurriedly it ran in front of me
She was escaping the 4-10
A hunter had her in his sights
 
How do I know it was a 'she'
Not very hard this time of year
Mother's out to forage for food
 
Six hungry mouths to feed at home
There is no season on her kind
Colorado.  Shooting practice
 
Run, run, little squirrel that I found
Those babies need you every spring
_ _ _ _ _
.
 - Photo and Poem Copyright © 2017 Jimmiehov, All Rights Reserved
 - Photo: Richardson's Squirrel photo, Richardson's Squirrel photo, Wikipedia

 - I'm linked withat the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, “FASHION ME YOUR WORDS ~ The way you see it”, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2017/04/fashion-me-your-words-way-you-see-it.html 

  --- - - and   
  - also to Day Twenty-three of NaPoWriMohttp://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-three-3/

  The instructions from Gillena: "FASHION ME YOUR WORDS : The way you see it.
Choose a poem preferable one you think you know pretty well. Look upon it with a fresh new view. What is your reaction, after this reading? Now, write a new poem based on the way it triggers in you a response after this reading. (Do not post the poem you chose at your blog, add a reference link only, if there's one, or mention it in a process note)
Post only your reaction poem, the way you see it."

 - **My reference Poem is the first poem I ever memorized, "Trees" by Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918)(He was killed by a sniper's bullet at the Second Battle of the Marne in 1918 at the age of 31), https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/detail/12744 (Joyce Kilmer's life Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joyce_Kilmer)
 - Trees, first two lines: 
"I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree"
 - Ground squirrel hunting in Colorado, "No season" means their is no closed season for breeding of the animals, etc.  Hunting is allowed at any time.  If the mother in my poem is killed the six babies (averaged size litter) will die of starvation.  Some groups are working for a closed period for hunting small animals in the spring while the mothers carry and then give their babies a start in life. 
 = Photo:  https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/b/b6/Richardson%27s-Szmurlo.jpg/1200px-Richardson%27s-Szmurlo.jpg

Labels: , , , ,

6 Comments:

At Sunday, April 23, 2017 7:30:00 PM, Blogger Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Oh, I so hope the mother squirrels – and their babies – keep on escaping!

 
At Sunday, April 23, 2017 8:04:00 PM, Blogger Susie Clevenger said...

Yes, run mama squirrel. The only thing I can hunt with is a camera. Thank you so much for all the insights you've shared with me after reading my poetry. It truly means so much to me.

 
At Monday, April 24, 2017 1:06:00 AM, Blogger gillena cox said...

Your inspiration poem is an old favorite of mine Jim. And you have made quite an interesting jump with it. Looking towards the preservation but instead an animal specie. My best wishes to those squirrels

Thank you for participating

Much love...

 
At Monday, April 24, 2017 2:33:00 AM, Blogger Paul John Dear said...

Nice poem Jim

 
At Monday, April 24, 2017 10:40:00 AM, Blogger De said...

I like this take. :)

 
At Monday, April 24, 2017 12:51:00 PM, Blogger Sanaa Rizvi said...

Lovely!❤️

 

Post a Comment

<< Home