Squirrel Run (Poetry)

Early squinting sun has warmed the bark
and squirrels helter skelter down the trunk
like gravity has got no hold on them —
an energetic swirl of fur and feet
tails streaming as they chase each other round.

Below them, in the car park engines fire —
the science of combustion comes to life
and work-bound bonnets point and pull away
join in the flow, mechanical, to town
all nose-to-tail but lacking any fun.