The Ephemeral Woods

Heat has settled upon the

landscape, an entitlement of

the season.  As is the rain,

descending without pause

for days upon drenching days.

Humid heat does nothing to

dampen the birdsong emitted 

from the talented throats of

song sparrows, robins, cardinals,

goldfinches besotted with life.

Mist rises from the dark, churning

waters that thread throughout the

forest.  Mosses creep, and fungi

have made their impudent

appearance on roots and

stumps, squirrel-nibbled.

The forest canopy is luxuriantly

verdant, wild grape vines clinging 

where they may.  A nesting owl sits 

solicitously within her nest in a blasted 

pine. Wind unleashes droplets clinging

to leaves and dense needles.

Upon the forest floor thrive bracken 

and dogwood, interlaced with 

purple-blooming cowvetch. Buttercups 

and daisies, hawkweed and fleabane, 

orange, yolk-yellow and watermelon 

pink stipple the dripping green.