The Last Acorn

My oak tree is budding Early in the time of spring And when those buds grow big An acorn is what it brings As an acorn, I hang high Looking down upon the land below At times I often wonder Will I be an oak tree when I grow? Or will I be the nourishment To the those that live in the trees Such as birds, possums, squirrels And animals such as these Or will I be a home for a weevil larvae inside Sleeping till I hit the ground Waking up from this wild ride One by one, I watch all of my family members fall Nows there's not many acorns Not many left up here at all And now for the very first time ever since I the day was born I have begun to wonder Will I be the last acorn? 4/26/2020