Baffled

The squirrels always ate the seed

I’d used to fill the feeder.

They’d shimmy up the pole to follow

One brave soul, the leader.

Whenever I glanced out and saw

A squirrel up there munching,

I’d step outside and stomp my feet,

Which stopped unwelcome lunching.

But in a minute, they’d be back,

With cunning and with daring.

My foot stomps and some yelling

Didn’t seem to do much scaring.

Yet at my son’s today I felt 

Like I had won a raffle.

The birds were at the feeder

‘Neath which hung a brand-new baffle.

The squirrels searched the ground below 

In hopes of cast-off smidgens,

As baffled by the baffle as

Their world would be to pigeons.