Interlude

"Brief interlude of awe, as squirrels climb up trees and jump from branch to branch, to a fence ledge or phone line. To its home, either underground or an old decaying tree or abandoned woodpecker hole." Quote by poet Dark wisp of sailing ships, mender through vast graying sky, slowing closing the horizon flaming sunset. Toying breeze fans and lifts the bright green leathery leaves. Squirrels scurry a pleasant musical interlude amongst the moist ground of sparse grass and roots, round acorns and broken twigs, beneath the live oak trees shade, then they scamper away to bury their prize. Camp fire orange flames Closing what is left of night squirrel's acorn feast