The Squirrel

Poetry: The Squirrel

by Liam

With the summer fled and autumn storm comes hope

This golden leaf no longer green but flies, spins dancing in the skies

Each trunk echos to a season past tall stretch, reach out grope

To us, we see the beauty cast and fall in love with autumn eyes

From Birch and Beech each every blade now free

The leaf of morning cool with moisture now touches me

The happy swallows cheep, it’s young now gone way south to sun

While bushy tailed the squirrel free

His quirky eyes to gather nuts in secret heaps for days to come

I turn to me and gaze with wondrous brow

A million miracles all around

I know not how

I know not why

I feel a tear

I laugh and cry.

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