Came to my attention.
As I walked by.
Bumps on the ground.
Grabbed me by the eyes.
Uvthee ah-sing. Etc.
For failure to pay solar tax.
Have two locks on one side.
But what's on the other side then?
Deflated, out of doors.
Drained of all their summer lies.
Following your moves.
Actually somewhat bent and not so square after all. But insistent.
On the one hand there's this thing.
But on the other – what?
Waiting on a wall.
Bright, light, and independent.
Death marches on crystalline feet.
Follow the dictates of nature.
Hang one to port and head toward winter.
Are steeling themselves against what is to come.
Which is something or other – no one ever knows, least of all mindless trees.
Sometimes it's a blessing from heaven.
Sometimes it's a random, sagging stain.