Very muddy and damp, a porcupine stakes his claim.
The scrawny critter trundles up a tree
hugging it as for warmth or a prized possession
when I stomp along the hill huffing
and puffing with a slight limp.
This is not the season of sharing.
Summer will bring its evening gorging in this humid forest,
but now, flurries form across the valley,
and just a touch of meat below the bark
would prove enough there is a God.