Brown

All of what I know could be stuffed in my cheeks like a squirrel determined in gathering winter food.

As little as it is or ever will be, I am determined to survive by it: nut-brown -- like acorns, soil and winter pin-oak leaves.

I complain too often, yet realize that I shouldn't because failings are essential to you, me and even a squirrel.

What makes his fur look so touchable isn't success it's rather and absolutely the beauty of abandon in his effort.