The Summer Woods

Seated impassively on a branch

of a tree in decline, half-hidden

by the desiccated leaves, the owl

swivels his great head, peering

at a peripatetic squirrel below.

Beyond, at the ravine's creekbed,

a pair of second-nesting phoebes

flit about the humid, hot

atmosphere.

Already, Queen Anne's lace,

ragweed, yarrow and cowvetch

are in bloom, joining the daisies

and cornflowers, the floral

bounty of the woods,

alongside the bracken understory.

Crows, dark and sinister

as Hades, perch and call, then

leap into nervous flight.  High

above, hawks coast on the

hot wind, screeching.