Spring rain continues.
The warm, moist grass ruffling
Under Wilma’s weight.
The groundhog lifts high,
Sniffing in the vernal air.
Her appetite calls.
Wilma moves forward;
The groundhog has purpose.
Eating while moving.
Wilma lifts once more—
Smells something not right out there.
She runs to the woods.
She has now found the smell’s source.
Leaves shake as she comes back out.
Wilma has Wesley in her maw,
The baby woodchuck’s limp head
Hanging down off of his mom’s jaw.
The corpse drops, its body is raw.
Wilma pokes—nudges— soft as bread,
Wesley won’t move for head or paw.
He will not rouse for paw or claw.
Wesley was snapped—dropped there—left dead.
Not considered a crime by law.
The baby pup had no real flaw—
Only his childish youth to shed—
To be chewed up and spit like ’slaw.
Yet he lay there, chewed up and raw—
Blood flowing out of Wesley’s head—
The horror of his death by jaw.
Wilma picks up son like a straw,
Bringing him home to grieve and dread.
Hanging down off of his mom’s jaw.
Each side bending like a see-saw.
© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
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Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Offline) - Published: May 15th, 2025 08:49
- Comment from author about the poem: Form: Chameleon Cantos. A direct sequel to my poem, “Springtime Silence”, this is the fourth poem written in my original form, which evolves from haiku to tanka to villanelle. I sadly witnessed this in real life—my own dog killed a baby groundhog, and mommy found him after we moved it to the woods. I wrote this to process the horror, the heartbreak, and the fragile beauty of spring that gave way to blood and death. The woodchuck family had two babies—I’ve named them Wesley and Wilhelmina. I’m not sure which one Chloe got, but this is for the one we lost.
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Comments7
I could feel the mum’s shock and grief the whole way. Crafted to moisten cheeks🙏🏻🕊️
Indeed. Glad yours were moistened, my friend. We'll blame it on the rain in the poem! 🤣 All jokes aside, thank you for your time and your feedback. Glad you could feel it! Much appreciated, as always! 🌧️🦔🦷💔
I do my cryin in the rain! And all jokes aside, it helps to keep from focusing on the pain. 🙏🏻🕊️
LOL! Exactly!
Another poem of tragic sadness from a human point of view of nature and its cycle that in our limited perspective seems unjust where nature's perspective is much broader. A lovly write Tristan.
Thank you, my friend. Much appreciated! 🌧️🦔🦷💔
Stephen King in the woods your imagery is flawless, nature can really shake us up, but that's what makes it some enchanting. 🌹
Thank you! I am humbled by that name drop! Indeed, nature is all encompassing and enchanting, for sure. I am glad this delivered, Teddy. Thank you so much, dearest poet and friend! 🌹👏
That's a sad and touching tale, but written so well, allowing us to clearly see how it happened. Hope the survivor went on to have a happy life, enjoyed the read
I can say the survivors seem to be carrying on as their survival depends on it. Saw mom and three pups walking in line today. So, mom is being more protective of them, clearly. So sad, but nature is indifferent. It is awesome to watch animals. Groundhogs have a grieving ritual just like the rest of us. I witnessed that and it was both sad and beautiful to watch, and just had to try and capture it. Glad that it delivered, my friend. Thank you so much! 🌧️🦔🦷💔
You are very welcome
Oh dear, poor things! Bit like our guinea pigs. I best not name them, erm, Popeye or Obi! 😁
No...though, if Wesley's one arm was as strong as Popeye's, Chloe would have been in trouble. How did he get that big arm again...spinach, lifting pints....??? 🤣 Thanks again for your time and comments, my friend!
Yes of course - a combination of spinach and lifting pints. 🙄
😂
Rest in peace little one
Indeed. Thank you, my friend, for your time and compassion. Much appreciated. 🌧️🦔🦷💔
Powerful work.
Thank you, Thomas!!! 🌧️🦔🦷💔
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