Lightly, the rain swims down
on an autumn night, a quiet storm
drunk by the trees that are braided into the background
awaiting sunshine to dry their leafy hair;
Redheaded woods this time of year
gorgeous and like wildfire, burning
green off into color
they know how to let go, those giants
compliant as their hair drips into loam
below them
Hands of branch and twig-like fingers,
faces of oak and bark;
the forest is fiery with a lurid linger
until winter devours it dark.