June 11: Le Pew

When through the open window evening breeze

Delivers a distinctive sort of funk,

I know that for some time I’ll take my ease

Surrounded by the stink of eau de skunk.

Inhaling that distinctive sulfurous scent,

Reminds of my childhood when a whiff

Of woodland musk inevitably meant

That with a skunk our dog had had a tiff.

I’m now convinced that each skunk adolescent

Selected my street for initiation

To cross the lanes when traffic is incessant

Which all too often leads to ruination.

Their fates were writte...