Strong Squirrel
A squirrel scurries across my path,
a torn piece of gluten-free bread
in his hands. Do squirrels have fingers?
He runs, but stops frequently,
he drops the dense, jagged rectangle.
I stand, towering over him.
Are squirrels strong like ants,
or do they bury their strength
like acorns in the fall? I hide
strength under layers of flesh
and enclosed in my skull, like a prison
or rather, a bunker. I classify the squirrel
as a male even though he exhibits
the feminine quality of attempting
to prove oneself—I too would drag
fallen loaf pieces, if barely trusted with acorns.
a torn piece of gluten-free bread
in his hands. Do squirrels have fingers?
He runs, but stops frequently,
he drops the dense, jagged rectangle.
I stand, towering over him.
Are squirrels strong like ants,
or do they bury their strength
like acorns in the fall? I hide
strength under layers of flesh
and enclosed in my skull, like a prison
or rather, a bunker. I classify the squirrel
as a male even though he exhibits
the feminine quality of attempting
to prove oneself—I too would drag
fallen loaf pieces, if barely trusted with acorns.
Lucy Dale is a sophomore at Denison University studying Creative Writing and Philosophy. She graduated from Interlochen Arts Academy, where she studied Creative Writing. Lucy is originally from Cleveland, OH. Her writing has been published in literary magazines such as One Art, Gyroscope Review, Remington Review, and Ink & Marrow. In 2024, she was the third-place recipient of the Annie MacNeill Poetry Competition at Denison University. In 2025, Lucy published a chapbook of her poetry with Bottlecap Press titled “Clementines and Other Wounds.”