sferic

Red Baron of the Wood
Protects its realm
From two-legged intruders
Chirping its warnings from above
To the others ahead.

I pause in my journey
To see the Baron eyeing me.
Standing still, I gaze
Into beady onyx eyes--
Unsure of each other.

The smell of the Wood has changed
In just one day.
We both smell the difference.
A full flavor of green
Is replaced with smells of red and brown.

I stand watching
While the Baron twitches,
Decides.
Thumps its back paw against the stump
And runs for the nearest pine cone.

The Barons of the Wood are readying
For the season to come.
Every five paces brings evidence of preparation.
Pine cone remnants on every rock,
Quiet chirps disguised as birdsong.

Urgency overrules caution.
The Baron--Guardian of the Wood,
Eyes me cautiously,
Sits atop its stump
Throws caution to the wind...

And eats its pine cone...with me as uninvited guest.