The Last Acorn

From my home on a living oak branch, I viewed birds and rodents food focused with much ado. A wise, elder acorn approached me to say, “buffet, café – either way, son, we’re an entrée.” Pure fear sent me to securely clutch a branch stay. When my alarm calmed about being critter food, I wished to be with others in an upbeat mood. Seeking all acorns, I searched tree high, ground down and all around before concern earned me a frown. What mystery had vanished acorns from this tree leaving just one to be found – the searching me! Needing to look for all fellow nuts now gone, I got my brave on and dropped down to search on. For days, I dodged jays, woodpeckers and one duck before wild bears, deer and pigs wiped out my luck. Such hunters forced me to hide in a leaf motif and there I was eyed as food prized by a thief who plucked me into his mouth – rude squirrel! To my relief, it buried me - death deferral. Many seasons of sun and moon danced to time’s tune while my roots produced health in a growth boon. My squirrel thief must have died, (hopefully pan fried.) Searching for family and pals will never end but older, mighty oak trees now call me friend. It seems the future will record us as done for by failure to score seeds as easily bore before.