The Power Squirrel - A Poem

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The Power Squirrel - Up there in the sky so high balanced on a wire was "Power Squirrel" (who's quite a guy - a mix of "cool" and fire.) The day I crossed the Sawmill Road he stepped upon the current that coursed its way to each abode whose bills were paid - or weren't. I saw him dancing up and down, hot of foot and muscle, He danced about like some daft clown - a very frantic hustle. I'd never seen a squirrel do that, hopping, skipping, jumping. I laughed so hard, right down I sat. My heart was really pumping. What had happened on the pole was that the worn out cable. leaked electrics through a hole and squirrel became unstable. But I sat down, laughing there, in Sawmill Road, it's middle, a road in which sane folks don't dare to tarry or to piddle. Power squirrel lit up bright red then blinked, and cars all stopped. Next to me he fell - not dead - for all his legs still hopped. An audience came crowding 'round this dancing squirrel, still sprightly. Power Squirrel, now quite renowned. did not take fame too lightly. Autographs he could not write, but showtime he was feeling. He put it all together right. His act was crowd appealing. Sawmill Road is not the same, since Power Squirrel stopped prancing. The wire's fixed - too bad - a shame.- so Power Squirrel quit dancing. Image: Power Squirrel - Pixabay.com- Gus Kilthau