That which caused this head-turned pupper to balk its walk?

Dashed what surreptitiously round that border wall?

Or, from leaf-slicked copestone, did a squirrel just fall?

Why is mum’s best friend now in this glade all alone?

Was not she just beside me with pocketed bone?

These leaves are surely alive—they skitter and squeak!

Oh my! How can I survive forest fright so bleak?!

Wait! Who is calling my name by familiar voice?

Ghost’s spooky trick? Yelp noise! Hooman with stick? Rejoice!

Huh? She just paused to pick Newtoned apples for pie?

*That* was the thump of lore that led me to cry why?

Okay, back on track—towards dessert—is awesome.

Phew! Brisk whisk, wild’s risk—keeps paws on toes in autumn! ; )