He comes, swiftly silently, Through silver-birch, Then, with a lurch Lands on garden wall. (You never hear his fall!) Then, with a glide, Paws spread wide, He lands on the ground With never a sound. He scrapes all around Unearths Autumn’s store From frost-bound “floor”. Now on his feet, One mighty leap He’s on window sill, Empty pouches to fill, With great expertise, The bird-feeder frees Of all its nuts! Then he’s gone… But only until Tomorrow’s Dawn!