Stretch of Stream

Sitting quietly by a new stretch of stream
A short rest and time to take in the view
At a peaceful place in a time of strife
Quietly watching life
While it watches me
Onyx eyes, inlaid with gold
Slowly changing from green to grey
Down from dry lofty boughs
Treefrog lounging on a wet rock
Pushed up by the rushing spring flow
Like a monolith rising out of the bank
Now nearly as grey as the rock
Secure in his camouflage
He issued a quick chirping trill
Smiling I return a softer greeting
Ever appreciative of good company
A gentle late summer breeze
Delivers the scent of death
From atop a flat rock, not three paces away
A dead timber rattler staring at me
Lidless eyes that never betrayed the pain of dying
Of broken fangs and empty belly
A chosen place at which to die
I have to wonder if there was a reckoning
Between the dying viper
And the ghosts of all the life it consumed
Dead upon the rock it lies
Soon to feed the waking ants and flies
Or a nocturnal feast for a hungry raccoon
A dragonfly hovers and zips away
Following her swift flight down over the stream
My eyes fell upon an old box turtle
Mottled yellow head half submerged
Taking in a long cool draught
Raising that head from the water
There was probably a century or more of knowledge
In those piercing blood red eyes
Seemingly regarding me with little concern
Having already keenly picked up my scent
I wondered if he ever caught scent of or saw
Human kind before this morning
Ever a place to sit and dream
Watching life come and go, by a stream