When the trees no longer whisper
Squirrels turn up past treasures
Storages they’d forgotten
Their excitement like finding a twenty dollar bill in last winter’s coat pocket
Stories they’d forgotten
Roused by the sharp winter air
Shared over squirrel’s wassail
Next to the warm winter hearth burning cozily within their trees
Where summer divided their ways
The cold pulled them closer together
As they sat arm in arm
Telling of their year’s adventures
One squirrel sat idly by the fire
Looking for the answers in her flames
He grew colder and lonelier
As the laughter rose around him
And as it turned to embers
And he remained the last in the room
He found peace in the solitude
And repose in the quiet
Casey's Shadow Cat Imaginarium 