Nesting

There’s a faded blue tarp

On an old pile of wood 

For a fireplace no longer used. 

Though my hearing’s not sharp, 

I thought maybe I could 

Hear a strange sound that got me confused.

So I opened the door,

Seeing if I could find

If a creature was making that scritch 

And before I looked more,

There to pay me no mind,

Was a squirrel, his jaws all a’twitch.

He was ripping at holes 

In the tarp that he’d made

And from out of his mouth dangled blue.

Seemed that one of his goals,

If attention was paid,

Was a nest of that very same hue.

Now I’m searching the trees,

Gazing up through the leaves,

Trying hard to discover that nest.

So if anyone sees

Something that he perceives

As bizarre, he can let his mind rest.