Retreat

The summer scorched the Earth and lit internal flames in the forest
That tickled its smolder up from the roots
And slowly erupted in a blaze of glory onto its leaves
Almost as if the presence of flaxen and crimson signaled the end of battle
A diminished inferno
Now those who survived
Hidden deep in the brush
Are free to venture out under the cover of night
The path illuminated by the autumnal torch of the limb
To collect their bearings and broken hearts
And push ahead
For the journey, while nearer to its end, is far from over