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One of four acorns waits in the hatcher;
is he afraid of the cold air outside?
Others around him make gains in stature
while he shows strong signs of wanting to hide.
He almost peeked out but quickly broke stride.
Found them late last summer on the bare ground.
Pocketed four of hundreds I had found.
Demolition of our woods taking place, 
at home I prepared their burial mound -
castaways, comrades from wildlife's lost space.

When they’ve resurrected and grown stronger, 
I dream of a tree where songbirds can roost. 
Though the last acorn’s taking much longer,
his buddies gave him a much-needed boost.
Caution set aside, his strength they induced.
Heard them this morning, telling his small world, 
“You can do this, push harder, come unfurled;
there is sunshine, fresh air, so much to view,”
Dancing with the wind, the three of them swirled
as we witnessed the last acorn’s breakthrough.

October 3, 2020

Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco
Contest:  The Last One

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