A Squirrel's Front Teeth Never Stop Growing, poetry by Barbara Harris Leonhard at Spillwords.com

A Squirrel’s Front Teeth Never Stop Growing

A Squirrel’s Front Teeth Never Stop Growing

written by: Barbara Harris Leonhard



Mom foraged for meals for nine daily. She hunted for quilt patterns and party dresses for teen girls. She gathered sea shells to glue to our gift baskets. She organized our puzzle pieces by colors and shapes. She sorted socks of all sizes and seasons. She stashed pennies to invest in Dad’s retirement. Our nest was always a crowded mess.

One by one, we fell out
and scurried away
to our own trees.

Dad squirreled away all his childhood toys and family heirlooms. To haul from nest to nest. His old red metal truck. His mother’s doilies and kitchen utensils. His father’s tools. Even his old college papers and letters. But my toys, paintings, and memo pads with my poems. Discarded at the base of old tree homes.

My dreams, abandoned
for strangers to scavenge
and rain to drown.

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