The Chance Taken

( with a chipmunk  living in our back yard.)

 

On his hind legs, staunch

and striped like a Swiss guard, he stares

at a swag of goldenrod

 

I’m several feet away

thinking how one of his cousins

attacked a cameraman

who trespassed on sacred ground.

 

Vicious or simply defending

one’s domain,  I won’t judge

and back away slowly.

 

Last night before the news,

I knelt down looking

into the  cellared darkness

of his hole

 

and called to him. A small beast

harmless and hungry, a totem

of Saint Francis.

 

At least, I thought so then

shaking  almonds  in my hand,

 prompting him

at a soprano’s pitch.