Whose door is this?Who passes here, in and out, Over the wooden threshold?Through winter's cold, who holes up here?Who sleeps on a summer day,In this place of refuge,Waiting for night to gallivant?What creature seeks asylum hereSquirreling away stores for hungry days,Stolen pecans, walnuts, hickory nuts?Who calls home This small hollow in a lofty tree?

Red ruffles like square Dancers' skirts and petticoats,Green leaves like ribbons in flying hair,Buds like red rubies at lady's throats.Garden path is a promenade.

Like a tiny world all its ownA sunflower stands along the roadsideIts center brown and crusty like the soilSprouting minuscule palm trees Tiny cactus topped with yellow flowersIts sunlit petals like the sun's own rays.