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.
Copyright © Joe Murphy | Year Posted 2014
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