Eagle in November
By Rye Muller
Still, smoky air settles in the valley
The hills appear as paintings in fall’s cold haze
Days of November
Yesterday we sowed our cover crops,
Today, rain falls kindly on that soil
Seeds set free
Fruit trees that speckle our land
Welcome winter winds
Yellow leaves blanket orchard floors
The sleepy sun sits low in the sky
A shadow twice my size at noon
Days of dusk so it seems
Fall brings a quiet stillness
Spring brought flowers and summer the fruit
Now we listen
Naked trees with canopies of blackbirds
Resting together, hardly moving
Until the Eagle stakes its claim
Silence makes easy prey
If they dare move
Coddled in dry nests
Golden hills of the valley now turn grey
Worn by sun and hoof
Wait patiently for rain
Not all is seen in fall pastel
Bright turnip, carrot and beet
Glow beneath our feet
Buds on the tree dream of spring swell
Coyotes sing to solstice moons
Rivers rage and rise
Two Eagles build a nest
Atop the tallest oak tree
Mates for life this mighty pair
Somehow they see a glimmer of spring
Tomorrow’s warmth in today’s cold hands
Wing in wing they prepare
Hatching love, a sprouting seed
Egg to Eagle, grain to bread
To this the farmer bows his head
Let us always remember
To give love, peace and thanks
For the Eagle in November
