The Squirrelby Emily DickinsonWhisky Frisky, Hippity hop, Up he goes To the tree top!
Whirly, twirly, Round and round Down he scampers To the ground.
Furly, curly, What a tail! Tall as a feather Broad as a sail
Experiment to me Is every one I meet. If it contain a kernel? The figure of a nut
Presents upon a tree, Equally plausibly; But meat within is requisite, To squirrels and to me. |