The Prime Of Our Lives

The summer of our lives
Far from the autumn or winter
Of old age and only
Recently through the
Spring of our youth.

Old enough to know better
And still too young to care.
Not youngsters anymore,
Very much the man and woman
Who we truly are.

This time to enjoy
The fruits of our labors
While we plan for
Our tomorrows to come.
Oh, for those tomorrows!

This season of enjoyment
Of dreams realized
And dreaming still.
Our time, our now,
Together in our prime.

Thief!

That lone and elusive
Albino squirrel
With the beady black eyes
Contrasting sharply with
The curiously odd creamy coat.

Now filching birdseed
From my backyard bird feeder.
It pauses and pays brief attention to me.
Quick as ghost
It's gone!

I'll refill the bird feeder
Later and it will
Be back for more.
Helping itself
To a free meal!