Award-nominated poem by Senior Jackson Tham

Flying Squirrels by Jackson Tham

 

In the rattling, clattering darkness

of the concrete cellar

the squirrels chase each other round and round.

 

They tumble in the basement beneath my feet.

Nails scratch and scrabble at the insides

of the beige walls.

 

My study vibrates, the desk lamp trembling

in the early hours when

the traffic light leaks though my window.

 

Once one appeared on my desk

twitching in the warm pool of light.

We stared at each other, eyes wide, waiting.

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