Raccoons

On the running path by the reservoir,
I stopped dead in my tracks.
A huge raccoon was waddling by;
No way could I relax.

I know they live in Central Park,
Yet still, they could have rabies.
It turned out this one headed towards
Her two cute raccoon babies.

The young ones huddled by the fence,
Attracted by the water;
And she was merely checking on
Her little sons or daughter.

I watched her nuzzle next to them
And then she turned around
And left them there while she returned
To more familiar ground.

My exercise resumed again
At my accustomed pace,
But after seeing those raccoons,
A smile was on my face.