“written for a special native american boy”
I slid my hand against the smooth bark of the Grandmother Oak and smiled to myself, “It is a brilliant day!” The sun leaked through the hole inside the tree while a fresh pine-scented wind lapped past the burrow, sending acorns tapping the ground. The leaves shook, making a sound ever so slightly…Shhhhh! I walked outside, my toes touching the moist earth, and picked an acorn off the grass. Dry leaves drifted to the floor. I slid my hand against a rumpled leaf and closed my eyes. Tossing the acorn in my warm hand, I walked all the way home.