On this day,
Gold finches will fly higher than usual.
They will suddenly have enough capacity and strength to fly up to spaces sought
over in the crystal blue sky.
The hummingbirds will perch on willow trees and make friends with the crows.
And autumn leaves will blanket the grounds warm.
In the meadow,
The foxes will burrow into their homes and nuzzle their young.
Light will shine through the cracks of their den and eyes will become mystified by glow.
Over in the fields,
Announcing the hunt,
Coyotes howl,
Competing with Timber Wolves,
Upon night fall,
In the old man’s forest,
A striking match will light a candle,
Igniting a pile of old brush.
The tender, mild voices sound hushed.
And so,
The crickets will come out to dance and begin the symphony.
Tree frogs singing love songs,
Hoot owls carrying a tune.
Soothing winds, gliding through tall grasses.
Moths cluster near,
Mesmerized at the fire's light scene.
Frantically the masked rodent scampers through the music, to sample the food.
All these lavish events fit for a queen.
At last,
The old, red, short haired dachshund trots toward the half earthen burial stone.
His mouth sore and slobbering,
Carrying a huge deer bone.
He drops it from his mouth,
His loose teeth searing in pain,
His round brown eyes wince watery,
He bows down his crimson head,
Giving honor to the woman who has past.
Digging into the dirt with his small red paws,
He buries for her, his largest bone.
He digs deeper,
Just to take in the last whiff of her scent.
Shoves the bone in the hole and covers it with soil.
Here in rests his two best friends.
Laid side by side offered to the ground at best.
His first love, a bitch, lies to the left,
But now his truly, a loving master, at the right.
He sniffs once more the ground and disappears into the forest.
Woodland creatures stand in line bringing offering,
A bear hide is laid over the spot.
Arms full of daisies,
And palms of wild black berries.
Gifts and tributes to her days past.
Gathering of creatures in all kind,
Bid her good bye.
Now, slithering across, a Northern Ringneck,
His long, shiny black body and banded yellow neck tie.
He moves to expose the underside of his colored red belly.
Releasing a foul smell into the air.
Pungent, sour aroma.
Slithering and hissing.
He sneaks up on the sobbing meadow vole,
Who traveled from far during the day.
Coiling around her luscious impregnated body,
He squeezes around suffocating her breath.
The ambient surround sound phases.
The digging of paws, the plea of her loud screech,
Gushing,
Blood spills forth and fragile organs escape from her mouth,
The Ringneck uncoils and gulps her life-less body down whole,
Slowing taking in his super sized meal.
Choking down his prize.
Blood drips onto the laden white daisies,
Kissing the ground.
The smell of fresh kill.
In arrive the wolves,
Howling and announcing the pack a stampede.
Intruding, disrupting, the evenings ceremony.
The guests flee into the forest.
Sniffing and howling,
The wolves start pulling at the burial offerings.
The smell it enlivens them,
Death in the air,
They forcefully impede,
Ripping up the earthen grounds,
As they dig, the scent becomes stronger,
Their dinner closer,
The alpha female finds something,
Digging deeper and deeper,
Her adrenaline surging,
She found it at last.
Her jaws, latching on to something.
She pulls and rips flesh.
Clenches down again, uses all her might and surfaces a woman's milky white
body.
The pack takes notice and flocks to feast on the juicy delight.
Once they’ve had their fill,
They dash, to hunt a live kill.
Of what remains the coyotes sneak forth and take left over.
Turning war of the ceremony on ones departed days.
Midnights heavy rains washed away the scent,
Turning sunrise into new tides,
The evidence is fair.
Silent is the morning,
The forest is still.
Of all the things to appear,
Was the fleet of woodland creatures smitten and stricken by day light.
The bidding of old tides.
The morning dove cooed,
As she dropped down in flight.
“Long live the queen” she sang,
"As upturned as she’s been,
Her spirit has rested,
But her remains have breathed fuel into kin.
In the air of this forest she will walk with the old man.
She will guide us to his peace and we will rest within.
So watch for melodies played in this forest and life will begin again.
These are of glorious days.
Days walking with him."
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