The Red, orange, yellow leaves

Crunch under my bare feet

The autumn glow shines on the tree bark

The call of a distant lark

And then I feel something squish below

A brown sticky substance on my feet does it go

What is that? I wonder aloud

It’s a pile of squirrel poop, large and round

It came out of a squirrel’s bottom

Yucky, smelly, stinky, and rotten

And now I am stuck with it on my foot but you know what?

I don’t mind it so much down on my feet

It feels kind of nice in the early fall heat

It protects me from poking sticks and twigs

It makes me smell like pigs

Which I like.

I love that I smell like squirrel poop

I love that I smell like a chicken coop

I love the poop so darn much

And I think I will now eat it for lunch.