Chipmunk

As I sweep sun gold on my stoop, Whisking shadows out of the leaves, I have a jaunty companion Who climbs the stump I laced in crumbs, And cocking his head, discourses, Sagely sizing my wobbly thoughts While chonking crackers right and left. He wonders about my morals, And queries all my opinions, Slapping me down with a scolding For the least prevarication. But each night when I reach my door After the day's journey of light, I find on my sill an acorn - Forest star of love from a friend.