Rain on the maples-
The forest is overcome
With new shades of green
Deeper than we've known.
Our limbs and trunks
Bend with this season
Yet, like a psalm recovering
There is still
A silver-emerald
Late Spring joy.
Though your verdant
Leaves became crimson
And fell to earth
Well before autumn,
These hours
Given to us all
Will be raked together
Soon enough
In golden, scarlet mounds
Under afternoon sun.
Until then,
We still hear your laugh
Like rain on the maples.
copyright 2005 Trevor Haug
from "Poems of New England"
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