by Brianna G. Harte
Nibbling on an acorn beside a tree,
I watch the humans walk around noisily.
They chatter and rant
as though it shall grant
peace to their minds
or quiet, needed finds.
Dare they approach me
in the time I am free
from long hours spent wandering
the ground for food and not pondering
my small body shall patter,
hopes of the day’s gathering will shatter.
Fret I do not
for I am not sought;
their focus on life leads them away,
forgetting what in the grass may lay.
How curious they may be
when sitting beneath a thin tree
they would just stare into the distance
and the threat I do not feel obliterates resistance.
Let me gather what I may
and I shall let you stay,
watching me leap into trees,
and allowing me to act as I please.
Copyright © 2015 Brianna G. Harte. All rights reserved.