In the Ivy by the Staircase

Last spring
Sandi squatted beside the staircase,
squirt pistol in hand,
as squirrels bounded past through the ivy
like breakdancers doing the snake.
Sandi had donned a purple sundress,
left her shoulders exposed,
and as class let out she
crouched, like someone from the FBI might crouch,
to ambush her crush.