"October Walk:" A Poem I Wrote This Time Last Year

I have been wanting to post more of my writing here, especially more poetry. I wrote this poem after a hike in mid October of last year.

October Walk

Dusty, fine-grain herbs and spices
the smell of an autumn walk.
Leaves crinkle, crunch
shoes munch
the ground.

This is the sound.

The wind in high trees shakes the leaves,
they twist, fall to ground.
The curved-edge crispy bodies settle down
to decompose, 
to press, slow time
into layers,
into worms, 
stones, 
animal bones,
sub-ground unseen layers:
soil, sand, silt, lay in the graves of earth’s pull.

Riverbed, the bed
of textures deftly brought 
together to collect themselves.
Spots of lichen mossy green, 
and pebbles round the leaves.

Lizards panic-waddle as if shocked 
by electric rocks
on their pale, snake-smooth bellies.
Hummingbirds fly erratically, 
dart forth
And back, 
penning manic, invisible script
in the sky.

Taut, unending blue, that is the paper sky, 
bright backdrop for branches, 
hanging leaves, 
the buzz of an unseen hive.
 
I’ll walk it again tomorrow, 
I’ll walk it a thousand perceptive times.
It won’t be the same
as today.

Today was a mild oven;
toasting, combining, producing
the spicy elements of Fall.