It rained last night and this morning—
Not water but walnut leaves—
Fronds fluttering down,
Filling the view between
the deck and the cedar tree.
It’s an eerie invasion,
A silent, steady bombardment.
The dogs bark and hide.
We stare transfixed
by the relentless shedding,
Denuding the stalwart tree,
Blanketing the lawn,
Burying the boxwood hedge—
As if we had never before
Seen such a sight —
Tho this walnut tree
with its enormous limbs
is almost
As old as us.
Diiggings 