The Bluejay's Call

An early afternoon twilight
reaches into the forest as the
radiant jewel of the sky shields
itself from view transforming 
this day of heat and sunglare
to an early fall rain event;
the surface of the forest stream
no longer still, but riddled by
pinging watery irruptions in its
leisurely journey downstream.
The sharp, earthy fragrance of the
dampened forest floor, still sizzling
where shafts of sunlight penetrated
the green canopy, begin to shift
from powder-dry to slick mud.
The bright pink of fall asters
in nudging companionship with
goldenrod becoming rain-glistened
decorate the forest pathways
and from the heart of the forest
clear as a bell rings forth the
shrilly assertive cry of a bluejay.