Civil War Squirrels

By William Bevill

The squirrels charged the hill at dawn
Stampeding to the cries of the bugle
and feverishly rampaging onward.
Their cheeks bulged with nuts,
tails flapping in the breeze.
"Give me liberty, or give me death," yelled
the squirrel general to his men
The south didn't stand a chance.
By dawn they had triumphed and taken the
bunker
They chattered away noisily, drinking and
gnawing on wood long into the night
Infamy was theirs.
 

About the Author
William E. Bevill is a writer and journalist in Tucson, Arizona.  He is publishing his first book, The ABC of Horror," later this year, as well as a self-published poetry book of strange ballads and twisted situations. 

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