The Squirrel by Emily Dickinson

Whisky Frisky,
Hippity hop,
Up he goes
To the tree top!

Whirly, twirly,
Round and round
Down he scampers
To the ground.

Furly, curly,
What a tail!
Tall as a feather
Broad as a sail

Experiment to me
Is every one I meet.
If it contain a kernel?
The figure of a nut

Presents upon a tree,
Equally plausibly;
But meat within is requisite,
To squirrels and to me.

Emily Dickinson Squirrel Poem
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