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Rated: E · Poetry · Environment · #1384274
A home destroyed, perspective of squirrel
The breeze blows lightly through fleckled leaves
The first frost has come, every leaf clings
For more moments in the tree
On the hillside, a collage of leaves falls in threes
A brown flash bounces past every limb unhindered
In search of a solid storehouse for the winter
The seed is needed to see spring enter
So this search is for another year
Of life in the trees
But this time the squirrel is in a time of need
She frantically scampers scattering leaves
To what used to be her home
She collapses in anguish, Wailing a moan
A groan the Earth knows, for the Earth feels it too
Every part of her home has been converted to wood
Lumber for another's good, but what of the squirrel
She had reached motherhood
Her family is gone now, and it is not understood
The stump seen here, means her family is gone for good
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