• Leaves fall down,
    Green, red, brown.
    The trees grow bare,
    a lonely dark brown.
    Amy brotheren scurry,
    looking for the last bit of food.
    Humans all ride on a yellow monster with bags on their backs.
    I scurry into my hole for a good fall's sleep.
    I curl up on my bounty from the human houses.
    Down, down into a deep slumber,
    awaiting for spring.