He is so full in himself:
how far down the branch to run,
how long to jump, when to grab the air
and catch in it and turn, and land on branch
so gracefully it’s like dying, alone
and warm in a bed next to a summer window
and the birds singing. And on that branch there
is the squirrel dancing among the branches
and you think What if he fell? but he won’t
because he’s a squirrel and that’s what
they do, dance and never fall. It was erased
long ago from the squirrel, even
the possibility of falling was erased
from his being by the slow inexorable evolution
of squirrels, that is why all squirrels
are so full in themselves, full in who they are.