The Acorn

Rustled by an autumn breeze, the acorn fell to rest near a mouse who promptly pleased to take it for her nest. Crouching by, a fox’s eye caught sight of nut and mouse. Pouncing high, he heard her cry and took her to his house. There a den of smaller bones, the mouse was added more, and the acorn, left on stones will rot inside its core. Till a squirrel ‘mid harvest haste, who found the acorn sweet, buried it for later taste as winter’s coldest meat. Yet in all his hurriedness...