Squirrel Noir

Winters a tough time for
squirrels in this city,
Having stored away all those nuts,
Nights the worst,
Between the shivering cold and
empty belly, its a wonder any
make it to the morning.
Chilled out side the jazz bar,
no pea coat to even keep you warm.
Then Bang!
    Another squirrel shot dead
    in the night;
by our killer, winters sweet delight.

Just had a little fun with this poem when I wrote it. Wanted to try and use a different scene and style with an absurd subject.