Strange Rain

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.

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