The Squirrel, that twitchy, miniature god of thrift,
Declares the season’s truth: Survival is the theft.
With eyes like frantic beads, he scurries, half-deranged,
His whole philosophy of living pre-arranged.
He stuffs the earth with futures, one by one,
A miserable mortgage on the winter sun.
He is the busy metaphor of fear,
Who thinks that happiness can be stored up here.
Meanwhile, the Apple on the bough just sighs,
And rolls its heavy, philosophical red eyes.
It knows the score: its purpose is complete.
It has grown plump on glory, sun, and sweet,
And now, it only longs to cease the strain.
The branch, a worn-out parent, whispers, "Rain
Will come, my dear, and make a sodden mess,
But first, embrace the elegant release."
The irony hangs thicker than the autumn mist:
The Squirrel, who hoards the kingdom of the log,
Ensures his wealth is hidden, lost, and deep,
A fortune he must labor hard to keep,
While the Apple, scorned as transient and soft,
Achieves its final, perfect goal aloft.
It drops—not empty, no—but wholly done.
It finds its freedom underneath the sun,
Leaving the hoarder to his nervous quest,
And granting soil the goodness of its best.
The final harvest isn't what you hold,
But what you are magnificent enough to let go.
-
Author:
imma isa kemmy (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 17th, 2025 07:42
- Comment from author about the poem: i thought of the squirrel during fall cause i see them each day during fall, what do u think
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 12
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments4
Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.
A great moral in this poem. Many parents hold on too long and too hard creating rot on the tree. Nicely worded in most poetic form and rhyme
Thanks a lot
Yes, sometimes happiness is just closing the door behind you and walking away.
Dead moss never grows on a Mick Jagger.
Isa, this is exquisite…a parable dressed as a poem. The rhythm, the insight, the restraint...it all builds to that final truth like ripened fruit ready to fall. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thanks
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