Thanksgiving Monday on Mount Douglas

A slump in my spine
     bent toward shadows of
     brown-spotted oak,
     its grooved bark blotched
          in pale lichens,
     knee of trunk thatched
          in mossy fur.

A dry frog's rattle
     ascends thin above
     city's vagrant purr.

A lone ant, thorax ochre
     head, tail black
     pauses to clean antennae
     meanders rock
     traverses tiny jungle.

Delicious gold and green
     have wrapped this autumn day.