A Sycamore Leaf in Fall
Autumn leaves and a little squirrel-
plus a rapid rain drenching all.
Scampering down our tall maple tree
the little squirrel blends into the wet bark.
He pauses. Then leaps, landing on a wet
sycamore leaf that is larger than he is by far.
That big leaf is on an edge. The squirrel's front paws,
frantic for traction, claw and the leaf moves
moves like a magic carpet sweeping him up and over.
The little squirrel lands... and finds shelter.
poem copyright ©2019 Anne Selden Annab
