#164
My Daisy
I and my Red Ryder
Stand by the back deck door;
Chickadees swirl around us,
But it's squirrels that we abhor.
One slips down to the dogwood tree,
From the roof above;
I nail him with a bright bb,
A sport bird lovers love.
He races down the dogwood tree,
Jumps to the garden fence,
Disappears in the winter brush
Where the brush is thick and dense.
"Break out the beer and crackers,"
The birds all cry as one;
"And to the empty feeders
While the sentinel's got his gun!"