Ground Squirrel is He

Thirteen stripe emblem
Large black eyed gaze
Filled with mischievous
Intentions to save

The fruits and the flowers
The seeds of the grain
His favorite the clovers
Which he eats in the rain

He lives in the drain pipe
And out in the field
Now eating cucumbers
To his taste have appealed

Forever watching
Aspiring to seek
The most delicate morsels
To keep in his cheek.

Endeavor's Trail

We do not grow into templates
Or soar by flight plan
We do not live to fulfill
What others envision
Or even master what
Towards we are driven
Instead our lives build upon
Complicated networks
Time and motivation pawned
For stable stature and a lawn
To what end endeavor's trail
Enjoyment, freedom may derail
More a term, agree, consent
Roles reverse then boundaries set
Perspectives none are cut and dried
Sediment of content rich
Settles after current slows
Looked upon as sky at dusk
A wonder after toil and trust.

-Kelly Voelker

Rain or Slim Chance

Living daydreams of fear within domestic hours
Wondering about changes to plans
Which were borrowed from simpler times
Before opinions were locked
During scheduled decency, holidays lined up
Nothing could stop us from keeping them up
The endless parade over the calender's horizon
The vanishing point of which the future's comprised
From our vantage point nothing much would surprise us
Maybe from now on, we shouldn't rush
To fill up our calendars a year in advance
When we aren't too sure of a rain or slim chance.

-Kelly Voelker