Last Acorn
I sit here musing midst these crumbled leaves.
The world I used to know is vanishing.
You do not think a lowly acorn grieves?
It seems the elements are banishing
me and my kin! In fact, I cannot see
one fellow oaknut anywhere at all!
‘Twas summer when I had them all with me.
We fell to ground, surviving into fall,
but quickly did fall’s brightness fade to grey.
My little acorn heart shook to its core
to see them – one by one – stolen away
by birds and rodents! What has God in store
for me as on this cold hard ground I lie?
Now flakes of white come falling from the sky.
April 17, 2020 for the Last Acorn Poetry Contest of John Lawless
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