Acorns Poem by Roger elkin

are October imposters posing as stones;
masqueraders parading their polished exteriors;
nests of pebbles lying below boles of oaks

They’ve got it down to perfection:
rounded, marbled, smooth -
their ambition cocooned, purpose concealed

They don’t want all the year’s sacrifice lost in one bite,
have been warned to be fearful of teeth,
so push snuggling downwards,
away from the sluggish dormouse, the marauding squirrel

Looking up at that vast oak
such massiness, such gnarled bark, such twisted limbs,
so much tree,
seems incompatible with such a small pearl-seed

Now errant gems
they search for security:
a pale start that will flourish into magnificent gestures,
embracing soil, and ground,
nets for fingers, nets for roots

Possessors
Possessors