Dancing For Autumn Poem by Connetta Jean

Walking down
the old gravel road
just off the highway..
i found myself
listening to the sounds
of Autumn falling..
far ahead of me
where the road seems
to dissapear
I watch 3 squarrels
gathering nuts
from this years harvest
running to bury them
on the hillside.
over and over
they stop in the road
checking to see
what i 'm doing.
somehow they seem
to know I 'm not
A 'public hunter'.
One by one
they carry away
The nuts in the road.
They do not seem to mind
me watching them..
Leaves fall around me
floating in the wind
as if dancing for Autumn...