My people are blue squirrel people

with red eyes, sort of people;

unique with a touch of lunacy

and who know how to store necessities

when darker days threaten to pass through.

They're the type of people who know where to hide when winter rages on,

how to make the bleakest nights light up into warmer days through fire, food, and melodious

song.

They're the type of people who make bets with dimes and lose

but get them back, framed and commemorated, when the winner reaches old age and fades away

and the ten cents have become rusted after many clocks have ticked their tocks.

They're the type of people who walk into antique stores with a dollar in their pockets only to

emerge with the most wondrous of tiny things.

My people are squirrel people, blue coated and ruby eyed.

They peer around the world knowing what they're worth and knowing how to survive.