Crisp air, cold, hurry, hurry!
Nose sharp with dew, where’s my tissue?
River running, chattering over the stones,
Gurgling, bubbling, jug-jug-plop!
Crisp, golden leaves scattered underfoot
Ropes of bittersweet hanging from trees,
Orange and gold curls of vine reveal
Aggressive, parasitic hold on tree and shrub,
“Here to stay!” they shout.
Glossy carnelian clusters of ripening rose-hips
A dozen on each grass-green stem
Arches of green dotted in red proudly show
Their jagged thorn; food and danger.
Last sprigs of sumac leaves cluster atop
Sprawling branches like rust-red palm trees.
Blueberry leaves crimson ovals in golden grass
Spears of green rushes, wet, soggy squelches of
Boots tramping muddy runnels.
A robin cheeps.
A sparrow inquires, another
Answers in a distant thicket.
The robin begins again a piping cheep,
Punctuated by a higher peep.
We’re being observed and chatted about,
The wild village converses.
Then perhaps forgetting all about us,
Going on about their business, they’re
Bored with our inaction.
Air clear, sharp, open sky.
Sun slides away, a rosy haze
Settles in the west, stars prick on,
The crows have long since gone to roost
In the pines along the ridge.