The morning is cool,

air still

but for the rolling waves

of synchronous cicada song.

Then, bedlam.

Through the buzzing foliage,

a squirrel chitters

indignantly.

Bouncing, twitching, furious.

With no consideration for civil discourse,

he pours out rage at the trespasser.

The cardinal,

a splash of red amongst the greenery,

alights near the jumble

of leaves, 

and twigs, 

and scavenged backyard findings, 

the squirrel calls home.

He whistles, indifferent to the wrath,

singing his song,

calling to his mate

to come, to join him

here in the security

of these protective branches.

As quickly as it began, 

the drama ends.

Bird abandons perch,

joining his mate

in the peace of a distant oak,

leaving the squirrel

to his impotent fury.

No doubt they shall meet again, 

perhaps at the feeder,

to argue over the rightful 

distribution 

of seeds.