|
The beetle searches, Looking for food Left by others. In this hard winter frost, The hunt for food Occupies all his time; His hunt for food Is mostly futile, Searching for what isn't there Or is covered in snow; The first cruel snow, The assassin of winter months. As the snow flakes fall, Spinning, Floating, To the ground, The beetle scuttles To a hole in a tree. It is warm in there, With a blanket of leaves. The beetle, Overwhelmed by the feast, Settles down And begins to eat, Moving in for winter. 17th December, 1992 |
Page created by Rillaith, rillaith@harem.org.
Last updated: 15 September, 1999