Intense and quiet tones rustle in sunlight,
Captured as leaves, fallen from autumn trees.
A colorful death that’s rendered so bright,
Scattered like slain soldiers, caught in the breeze.
They dance by our feet on currents of wind,
That blows briskly and can cause one to sneeze.
Chattering squirrel searches for food to rescind,
Away in the tree hollow he calls his home.
Finds an acorn from an oak that was trimmed
Down by the gale and concealed in the loam.
The squirrel takes his treasure back to his tree,
Concluding the tale of this seasonal poem.
|