Little squirrel with bushy tail
From tree to tree I see you sail
Never once to see you fail
The air to slice.
Wish I could learn to fly,
Against the vaulted, azure sky.
What a thrill, O me, O my –
It must be nice.
– eab, May 1966
May 7, 2017 by separateholy
– eab, May 1966
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