The Acorn

What story should I tell? This is the tale of how the lonely acorn fell far from where the mighty oak had stood cut by the hands of man, felled for its wood. The mother-father tree lay across the laid bare land cut down in the forest no more to stand and the branches stretched out along the dirt releasing the acorn from its berth. This acorn scratched and bruised, browned and torn slipped into the streamflow of new rivers formed and floated out to the open sea she rode the tides salted and found herself - free. The gulf stream path sped north into the wintry chill as she cut across the sands where tidal waves were spilled and a gull eyed her glistening shiny coat and scooped her up but not down into her throat. Pass the inlets, along the earthen roads the gull dropped her beyond the manmade folds where fertile land had long ago appeared and squirrel and chipmunk vied for burrows cleared. Buried deep in fertile soils blessed this acorn was welcomed as the forest began its undress with autumn fall and winter tamed, she was awakened by the sun and rain. This acorn found a place in the northeast spring with hairy roots that began to form and sing, of an acorn that was newly born. escaping the outer shell coat torn. She began to grow far from where she fell and as life took on its hold in sapling meld the newest oak began to watch history unfold and knew then she was not the last acorn in the mold. As time and historic years hurried pass she knew she was not nor would be the last with nature's watch and thirst she was, the very first. 4/24/20 for John Lawless contest The Last Acorn