I share the yard with 7 skunks, I think.
I know they’re polecats but they’re hard to count.
I see them out at 4 a.m. – they slink
and romp and by their tails the kits amount
to 5 or 6. They’re cute. They rarely spray,
conserving their repellant for the threat
from dogs too dashing eager to give way,
who even after dousing will forget.

I freaked at first and told the skunks to leave,
but as I live and read and learn their ways
I like them more and more I do believe
my time among the skunks are holidays
compared to other trespassers of late –
it’s raccoon packs and ’possom shit I hate.

This entry was posted in Critters, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s