A grey squirrel sits upon the cold planter

Rummaging for the acorns that may hide inside the frozen soil

Finding a few as though he has won the lottery

On a cold day, a win indeed

Where for others, inside, hovering over a cold sink, sickly & worn down

Wishing they could be as calm as the squirrel 

As lucky 

Instead, fighting for peace, staring at him in envy…

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