The Uneasiness of Trees

Photo by Jesse Dodds on Unsplash

Around me
the leaves drip
with oppressive, intermittent,
unanswered questions.

For a moment
cool air sweeps aside
the heavy, green curtain
of impending summer.

In the distance
inaudible chainsaws
obscure this
aesthetic perfection.

Birds attempt
to defy the gloom.
They do not convince
the dim, white sky.
The curtain drops again.
Silence returns.

Drip.
What is the next step?
Drop.
It’s hot. Will it rain?
Shhhh.
Is the answer blowing
in the wind?

Drip.
Which way to go?
Tweet.
How can we end this?
Tweet tweet.
Why can’t you hear me?
Drop.
When does it ever end?