Last Christmas I gave the squirrels bags of peanuts, and they just quickly squirreled them away in their tree huts.

A lot of them got buried in the ground, though I think those were quickly found.

This year I almost fed them by hand, until it all metaphysically came out of their other end.

Now they just sit in their tree, and want nothing to do with me.

But, we've traveled far together, for sure, yup, from my startup idea of selling them as kittens in a cup.

To them chewing into my enormous box of emergency pandemic trail mix, and probably replacing all the nuts with their ticks.

So, I just want them to have a Merry Christmas you know, I don't want therm to be digging around in the snow.

They left a single peanut on a fire a hydrant for me, though, I can't tell if it is a threat or a plea.

Maybe they are just being lazy, I am not sure, I suppose, they don't need me anymore.

The wobbly drunken one that lives in the crab-able tree, seems to down right hate me.

Now I know what you are going to say, try as you may;

There is neither inspiration nor wisdom to be found, in a poem about Squirrels burring peanuts in the ground.

But I beg to differ, if I may, for squirrels teach and remind us every day,

Of the importance of dance and play, and enjoyment of every holiday.