October, Tree Trunks After Rain
Yellows and reds in their abandon,
scatterings of persistent green.
It’s as if a painter threw every color
she had at a wall and it turned into
a world. Beauty husks me open like milkweed
emptying its silver in the wind.
It might all blow away if not for the broad
strokes of rain-blackened tree trunks plunged in earth.
THOMAS R. SMITH is a poet, essayist, editor and teacher living in western Wisconsin. Read more.