Walking through the woods
Down an old deer trail
Catching a few scents
Like that of a hickory smell
A few leaves are blowing on the trees
but most of them are on the ground
As the breeze catches them
Without even making a sound
I hear a grouse drumming
Just calling to his mate
The squirrels are packing away nuts
Before winter hits, and it's too late
Some deer are feeding in the meadow
Not knowing I'm even here
And the little ones run and play
And kick up their feet, as if in cheer
wrote 11/21/2007 by Norman Hale Jr.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem