Unnamed Verse

Butterfly overhead
Acorns beneath my
feet
The leaves begin to
whisper their
secrets
As the squirrels play
tag.
Here and there
a crimson thread, a leaf,
the makings of an
autumnal tapestry.
Shy blue sky
peeks around the
canopy,
smiles, then bids
"Adieu"
as I descend
narrow staircase
weaving reverently,
wishing quietly,
among the grand lords
of old
cloaked in fawn and
Emerald
Humbled by their height
bowed to see the
depth of their roots.
And I the paparazzi
Without a camera
Only my pen
Toddle back again.