Squirrels In the Sycamore
Last leaves have fallen from the sycamore tree
Leaving her limbs unclad, so naked and bare
While they wait for their new coats of cottony
White snow, and the squirrels, here and there,
Skitter about searching for the nuts they stored
All summer long for wintry days they anticipated
Most of them have found carefully stashed hordes
Since the leaves are raked and falling has abated.
Instinctively, they hurry to prepare for the winds
Securing their leaf nests in the hollows of limbs
They even seem to cooperate as squirrel friends
As the warmth of a November sun steadily dims.
A sense of barrenness and busyness on the lawn
As the sycamore filters the dimming light through
Up early, I can see the squirrels working at dawn,
Mother Nature has taught them exactly what to do.
Written November 6, 2022
Copyright © L Milton Hankins | Year Posted 2022
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