Raccoon a visitor so unexpected;
nocturnal animal staying aloof.
Yet it is he turning over my trash can,
and worst of all he climbs up on my roof.
He uses it as his own private bathroom;
there on the gutter deposit from he.
Gutter guard protecting from all the leaves;
still Rocky goes there, and it is not pee.
Maybe I am kind to label him Rocky;
rascal who climbs on the house before dawn.
All of the back woods remains for his making;
but tis my roof he decides to dump on.
Once in the AM three hours past midnight,
I entered my bathroom still half awake.
Then like some scene from a cheap horror movie,
he peered through the window for Heaven’s sake.
It was a face as if mischief was common;
dark beady eyes and a imp-sassy grin.
After the shock of a raccoon-filled window,
I had to wonder which film I was in.
So in the morn as I steadied my ladder,
I climbed the rungs under clear skies of blue.
Thanks to the visitor whom I call Rocky,
I went on high cleaning up summer poo.
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