What would it be like to be a white squirrel?
Traveling about without a clue
Or maybe so, he does know
As the world is aware of the chance here
Of getting there and back or not
And maybe this squirrel no different than us
We see the field ahead past the fence
And then the woods with paths and curves
Up and around, over and through
To get to that place and start again
Avoiding danger and hurt and harm
The wonder and charm
Breathing the air, going somewhere
Doing what he does, as we.