(I had observed this squirrel-behavior over the years--when they lie on their bellies to cool off--but the term "splooting" was new to me.)
Yes, squirrel, your body's
covered in thick gray-brown fur.
You don’t have a word for summer
but your body does. All day,
you run up and down trees,
driving upward with thick thighs,
clinging downward with sharp
fore-claws. One tree
holds your nest, where you
go to check on the kids. Otherwise,
you search madly for nuts,
hold them in your mouth
(oh, jaw-ache), bury
them for later, forget where
you buried them, search, smell
them out, dig them up, move them,
on and on, dawn til dusk.
Sometimes you stop for a snack,
and chew through a hard nut-shield
(oh, more jaw-ache) and eat,
all the while glancing
anxiously around for killers
including the beastly Tall Ones
whose fur could be any color,
who drive great hideous clouds
which have murdered and
flattened friends you mourn.
When the heat wears you down
and your jaws and legs ache,
you find cool grass, lie down,
spread your arms and legs,
and, ah, let the lovely chill
pass through your belly-fur into
your body. Squirrel, you have
earned this a hundred times over--
this rest, your time of splooting.
hans ostrom 2022
