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Much Ado

25 Jul
While I was sitting on the sun-drenched porch, reading,
a squirrel fracas fomented on a tree branch overhead.
Who discerns how these things get incited, 
but it shook the limbs and leaves with its frenzy.
Seven or eight incensed critters were squeaking
ferociously at each other and chasing after one,
then another, very dramatically because
of some squirrel infraction that would be
ludicrous to determine. The uproar reminded
me of human politics, which are often much ado
about a whole lot of nothing, but full of sound
and fury.
 

 
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Posted by on July 25, 2021 in Poetry

 

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