11.February.26

Regarding Ms. Squirrel’s rightly raised Umwelt,

Where paws pause for any and all acorns felt

And tales of tails precluding possible pelt

Abut ears’ hears when baleful brouhahas belt,

Precisely perceived, deftly danced acts are dealt. ; )

09.February.26

Surely, it would be a stretch, I suppose,

To wake up as a freshly greened bluenose

Spotted as plotted far from boats and blows.

Hence, as far as this placed peek-a-boo goes,

Where any of sense hides from desert flows,

I gaffe as giraffe ‘til a new Scot shows. ; )

08.February.26

Teri tired of territory’s tympany, where she felt like expectations were for all to traipse through ghettos in stilettos—a notably futile feat for those hoping to press paths towards pertinent progress, especially when such steps required jumping into faithful falls—putting to bed delusions dried and dead via stances sincere in seemly stead. ; )