The Forest Fast

It could be a morosely dark day for
the forest interior is dim and drenched
dusk an early intruder. But the rain has
stopped and an evening thrush sends
its sublime trill through the sodden
atmosphere and the crystal mountain
brook cascades riotously over boulders
that tumbled from the mountain slopes
aeons ago. Deciduous trees newly leafed
glow with a tumult of fresh greens
luminescent in their wet aplomb.
Glowing Ladies Slippers whisper
confidences to Lilies-of-the-Valley strewn
about the forest floor. The understory of
dogwood and moose maple shift in the
wind, droplets easing upon mountain
sorel as elderly hemlocks tipped with
chartreuse new growth lighten the
atmosphere, while red pines soar
to profound heights, their trunks
elegantly tattooed with mosses and
feathered with gray fantasies of lichen.