A Morning Walk In the Woods

A woodpecker raps a rotary phone tone Then redials because be gets no answer. Staccato hammer on a hard wood tree To the beat of a madcap tap dancer. Trees resplendent in their Autumn finest A silhouette for a blue cloudless sky. Cold dark shadows crawl across the wet grass A black hawk is weaving circles on high. Fallen leaves crackle and crunch underfoot. Plump squirrels gather nuts for the Winter Chipmunks scurry across worn man-made paths Like kids darting through a garden sprinkler. The sun's casting spears of light through the trees. You can almost hear the falling leaves drop. There's a vague sense of what we all may have lost When we were expelled from that first garden spot.