Four Raccoons

How like
a third base coach this one is, peering
and scratching, quite content
to pointedly ignore
the baserunners, even
while hanging out signs.

This other one, the youngest
has to get up early tomorrow, so
he's wandering off to the ivy
already, looking for
the peanut vendor.

The last young one, the bandit of the bunch
paces and prances
on the basepath
by the fortnight lillies,
back and forth
looking for the sign to steal.

Mother on her hind legs, her
claws hanging like infielder's gloves,
arms spread, legs spread, ready for
any hot grounder hit her way.

At last, an hour later,
the neighbor's dog barks,
recalling the big inning,
especially annoyed
by the memory of the
crowded bases. The stadium roars
one final time, then
stands and stretches,
and the stadium crew
turns out all the lights, goodnight.

small photo

photo

City of Bloggers 1, 2