The Last Acorn
The Last Acorn
long shadow of tall oak chilled the garden
faint sunshine, through bare branches, offered pardon
to those who lingered late to watch life harden.
frost stung roses, reddened cheeks slow faded,
lost color of a garden slow upbraided
in waning warmth of summer love grown jaded.
sad vestige of a seasons slow demise
an acorn falls beneath the graying skies
oak tree now bare, a hungry squirrel cries.
9/7/2017
submitted to Bittersweet – Poetry Contest
Copyright © John Lawless | Year Posted 2017
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