Forest Colours

It could be the gloating madcap
laughter of a lunatic roaming in
the woods, but it is not. A Pileated
woodpecker flies through the forest
and it echoes the bird's shrill call
before it settles on the carapace of an
old giant and begins dismantling its
shell in a frantic search for underlying
larvae of the menace that struck the old
pine dead. Blue, blue the oceanic sky in
its pacific presence, the sun gleaming
steadily over the forest canopy. Frost 
has not yet worked its way out of the 
forest floor, yet struggling to free itself 
from winter incarceration are the 
vibrant fresh green furls of bedding
grass whose divine fragrance when it
flowers will transform the forest into
a perfumer's transient shop. Above
in the canopy where conifers nod
the spires of their green presence 
maples are beginning to re-acquaint
themselves with another spring, their
red budding flowers emerging in
contrast to the sepia-tinted vision of
the forest not yet fully divorced from
the monotones of winter display.