summer's left it's sheets
and added a winter's coat.

trees've told leaves to close-up shop
squirrels are even dressed to the nines.

a woodpecker's busy peckin' a hole in the air;
glancing in a mirror toward the next minute.

this is my morning breakfast, my wheaties.
along with all this sound and scurrying.

i ponder if this is it, or am i the fool?
if my animalistic movement's for naught?

i look at the leaves believing in Jesus, smile down.
i latch on to the moment and hold tight, smile back.

10/27/2007

Posted on 10/27/2007
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan