Auburn

A forest of autumn, auburn
beauty from inside, lifeless
inactive, yet a plains ahead
but still, still, inactive, red

respond! I cry, a river
it breaks the soft earth

O plains you are so beautiful,
show me the trees you hide
below the horizon, I, I, I
I cannot see them myself
must I grow my own?

But your soil is too delicate
and I fear I may harm the dewy grass,
you are blessed and sacred,
I will not curse this land auburn alike the last