Friends, 
At the risk
of sounding redundant, 
I bring forth
a prickly topic. 

A quick glance
while surveying treetops
and suddenly
my heart sang
as I spotted 
a well-armored back.

I had 
the track of
a bobcat to thank,
for it showed me the way
to this special find. 

Circling through
dense hemlocks 
as branches snapped
at my side,
and snow crunched 
below my feet,
I attempted 
to get 
a better look. 
My, what big nails you have! 

Not wanting
to disturb you, 
I chose instead
to follow your 
foot impressions
and see where 
they might lead. 

Occasionally, 
I lost track of 
your prints,
but then a hint
would appear
in the form 
of pee
creating
a rambling line. 

In an opening
I next stepped
and discovered you 
had done the same
over and over
again. 

Your tracks
 brought me
to another hemlock stand
where 
by the little brown commas
scattered across the snow, 
I knew I'd found
one of your dining rooms. 

What I could not locate
was your den
and so I circled back
to spend
a few more minutes
admiring your auburn hair,
white-tipped quills, 
and chocolate brown eyes. 

With your poor eyesight, 
I thought perhaps
I was safe
and clamored 
across the snow,
for so loud 
were my snowshoes, 
to see if I could find a den
in this vicinity
but all I saw 
were the fallen branches
you'd snipped 
from the trees. 

It was then
that I returned 
to another 
viewing location,
and realized 
you were beginning 
to move as well.
Poor eyesight yes, 
but your 
auditory and olfactory senses
are spot on. 

Aware of my presence, 
you turned 
your back 
and raised those sharp-tipped quills
toward me
in self-defense.

And then
you moved, 
reaching out 
to grab 
another pole tree
with your feet
as your tail 
stayed on full alert
should I approach. 

Though usually
a slow waddler,
I know you 
are able
to move swiftly
when motivated,
so once you 
began to climb down,
the time had come
for me to bid adieu
and 
I 
hightailed it home. 

Dear Prickly Porcupine, 
this day, 
February 5, 
will be the day
I celebrate you!