Groundhogs In Thomson Park
groundhogs, brown-burnished fur, eyes
sparkling, reflections of evenings' soft stars,
enjoying unencumbered freedom to romp
at play, or work perhaps?
two of them, are they, can they be,
husband and wife, dwelling in this city park?
their burrow barely visible in the grassy hillside,
their tiny heads, the only evidence to their presence.
what is their plan, their purpose in being where
they are, why not somewhere else?
who gave them permission to lease this spot?
does this make Scarborough their landlord?
disappearing periodically, their presence becomes
erratic, perhaps they distract me from their den.
appearing constant companions, they seem to
vanish together, at the same time.
they are drawing nearer to my park bench,
of what defenses must I avail myself?
oh well, I will momentarily disengage my interest,
they can do no harm to me.
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