by J. E. Cook
A tribute to Eudora Welty
The smell of the river drifts through the woods,
Cool breezes with a mystic aroma drifting among
The wildlife residing inside the corpus of plants.
Mingling vines with flowering brush,
As I walk on the paths inside the wilderness,
I notice the changing of time,
Old man winter will come soon.
The Hickory trees will turn their color to yellow,
A Sweet-gum tree becomes red, as the Sycamore yellows,
And the Oak and Magnolia never die.
Nuts dropping like raindrops and squirrels gathering
And hiding for winter meals.
October skies with a gold sun,
The trees, the sky, and the water mirror that beautiful hue,
Everything changes and looks like it is made of
Shining Willow trees bend towards the golden threads
Of the narrow streams,
Torrents of waves in someone’s dream,
Transparent light becomes the paraphernalia in
The whirl of the water.