Poem for the Equinox

by Phil Specht

Crows know I am present, when they hear the Red Tail say
a welcome to my forest visit, at the start of day.
Other creatures find it strange, to be heralded with a cry,
(they have seen me enter with a gun, a squirrel’s day to die).
Today I have no such plans carrying camera in my hand,
Hawk still cries a warning that will carry ‘cross the land.
Coyote lets me walk on past not bothering to rise.
Wisely watching as I slowly move, in camo suit disguise.
The acorns patter on the leaves. A deer begins to munch.
tail flick noting of my passing, but continuing with the lunch.
None of them are targets, which all of them seem to know.
Photography is harmless, besides, it isn’t long ’til snow.
Just then the quarry spots me, pileated woodpeckers like to laugh.
My eyes weren’t trained to treetop, and bird laughter greets my gaffe.
The squirrels think it funny too. as they begin to bark.
The crows confirm my cover’s blown, I’ll leave. But not ’til dark.
I’ll spend this day of equinox sharing each sunlight warming ray.
Knowing when the sun rises once again, will be a shorter stay.

Phil Specht 9-19-19