The Acorn's Cap

I slipped beneath the rubber flap of the screen door, eager to feel the open breeze after days indoors. Fluttering across the patio, I alighted upon the warm slats of a weathered cedar bench. Tucked right into a wood grain split lay a plump brown acorn, still resting snugly in its rough, knobby cap. I paused, letting my feathery antennae adjust to the bright air before inching closer on my purple fabric feet. Reaching out one front limb, I gently nudged the polished shell. It rocked half an inch along the groove, basking warm and quiet under the midday sun.