FROM UNDER A CEDAR, DRY

On southern wind this early morn
comes a chill late autumn rain
tapping castanets upon my hat
in monotonous refrain.

Each time a drop hits colored leaf
it knocks it loose from summer home
sending it to join its kin
among the dampened duff and loam.

The ground beneath each different tree
is covered in its own bright hue
and flattened further by the rain.
A quilted multi-colored view

So I seek out a cedar tree
(nature's shelter of dark green)
and sit beneath the scented boughs
waiting to see what will be seen.

Besides the leaves on their last trip,
bare rattling limbs shake off the rain
which drops to dimple still creek pools
mixing with the tannic stain.

And while peering at the stream
dodging wood ducks streak on by
on blurred beating whistling wings
beneath the lowering gray sky.

In an adjacent fallow field
a single solemn turkey feeds
on soggy insects, grubs and worms
he finds in the stubble and wet weeds.

A nearby squirrel goes up a tree
looking for a big acorn.
I'd like to be nimble as he
on this dripping dismal morn.

Ghosting down a nearby ridge
goes a sleek and silent buck
on his way to court a doe.
Deer season's closed now, just my luck.

And on a hollow tree unseen
woodpeckers go knock,knock, knock
drilling for a bug or grub
in his red, white and dull black smock

So even on such rainy day
with summer's warmth now gone,
in the forests and the glades
the muted beat of life goes on.