*revised and reposted

A Season More

A cirrus sundown was shrouded in whorls
as I silently watched the sly squirrels.
Playing chase, they chidingly chattered,
running rampantly as they scattered
pinecones from tall cedar's limbs,
the falling seeds of not yet kin.
They tumbled into fields of flecks
of reds and orange leaf crumbled lakes
all strewn with cold ashen gold
where nestled deep they grab and hold
and lay beneath earth's blanket floor
to sleep evergreen dreams a season more.

Poetry by melanie sue
Read 540 times
Written on 2009-11-07 at 19:18

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Nils Teodor The PoetBay support member heart!

Nice poem I too like to watch the squirrels