He’s in the peripheral of your lantern’s light 

As his jump crests the undergrowth. 

His business, a serious endeavor 

Risking the watchful eyes of owls 

He’s intent upon finding your trail mix. 

You sit silent as he approaches,  

Trying to impart a feeling of friendship. 

You offer a nut and a seed. 

He takes one at a cautious distance 

Then darts back to the safety of tall grass. 

Your lantern’s propane hisses 

As you catch a glimpse of another of his small hops.  

He’s heading in the opposite direction towards tall trees 

With a bit of disappointment, perhaps, to his jump 

For you are packing up, securing all food 

And shutting off your lantern. 

A new silence. 

It’s darker than you thought darkness could ever get. 

But you know he’s still there as you fall asleep 

To the rustle of branches and the sly movement of the wind.