Between Storms

A poem by Alison Luterman

Last night it rained Biblical torrents,
and the trees dropped all their leaves at once.

Today, red and orange leaves, like little hands,
lie all over the sidewalks in mounds. Their cellulose skin

so much like ours but without meat or bones.
Meanwhile the neighbors are out in force,

raking and binning the storm’s detritus.
It’s what we humans do, after a tempes…