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Larry D. Thomas
Squirrel Nest
Wedged among the thin
uppermost branches
of the Bradford pear,
it looms like a dark beehive
the size of a basketball.
Seemingly a concatenation
of twigs and leaves,
it’s woven with bits
of business cards,
cigarette butts, gum wrappers,
dollar bills, advertisements,
the pop-tops of beer cans,
the sun-bleached breasts
of a porno magazine photo,
Jehovah’s Witness pamphlets,
and faded lottery tickets,
a staggering, swaying testament
to the rabid ingenuity
of a rat with grace.
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