Mission Revisited
a fable
With rake in hand, I had a mission clear -
to rid my yard of piles of rotting leaves
before their musty smell got out of hand.
My ancient oak trees are prolific still.
Providing fruit and leaves with great success,
both shed in full abundance ev'ry year.
One wicked swipe of weaponry I thought
revealed a broken bottle nonetheless
it was instead a lens, a spyglass lost.
I picked it up, discov'ring life anew -
its closer focus found a seedling rare
had sprouted, taking root within the loam.
What I had thought was useless held a prize,
All winter long the dying leaves had giv'n
a careful shelter for one special seed.
I took my weapon back and in the shed
I found a cage-of-sorts that fit my plan.
The moral here, don't be so quick to clean
what nature has provided as a shield.
November 5, 2016
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