**TOLD FROM A SQUIRELLS PERSPECTIVE**

****

I race along the forest trail

My legs starting to feel frail

I make my way into a clearing, an acorn gripped in my mouth

There, my tree, my home, my hiding place

But no, I have to head south

Right before me is the reason I need space

Blown away by the autumn wind

where my home once withstood through the thick and the thinned

How I have doubted its strength

My fear growing in lenght

Leaves flood the grass

and so I go to pass

Run.

I dont even look back

Because now I have something that I greatly Lack

My hiding place, my home

After hours of searching, I find a tree next to a tomb,

Shelter, my new place without grief

My eyes close and I breathe a sigh of relief

As I have found my new comfort zone.

My Hiding home, I hope to not be blown.