The Last Acorn

I look around, and they're all gone- with me, they fell from the oak tree. And one by one, they met their fate; I'm here alone on this stone path. My purpose was to land on grass- on fertile earth to propagate, and now I see, this just can't be; alone, my days are numbered too. Oh no, it's coming- it's too late- I am the last to go this way! That gray fur monster sees me now and scoops me up with tiny claws. And round and round and round I go, it spins me now held by its nails. I'm in its mouth- we speed away! Oh dear, a tree, I'll never be. It stops and drops me on the grass I see the dirt go flying fast. And all at once, there is a hole, and quick inside, it buries me. I'm covered now with dark, soft dirt; the monster quickly runs away! A thunderstorm brings heavy rain- thank God- I'll grow to be a tree! April 11, 2020 ~8th Place~ Contest: The Last Acorn - Personification Sponsor: John Lawless Judged: 05/07/2020