Oak trees like bombers
Soaring toward the sky
Laden with burdens
To loose upon the unsuspecting below
Suddenly, a release!
And all the missiles fall.
Lighter, now, the bearer kisses the clouds
Unconcerned with the fate of the unsuspecting below
The unsuspecting cringe
Under the deadly hail;
Flinging up hands to ward them
Ducking down below
Knowing natives laugh
At visitor’s consternation and alarm
As they look up, wide eyed, and slip on those below
This is a New England autumn:
Acorns overhead,
Acorns underfoot,
Acorns away!