And the branches held tight

To the handsome few that remained,

But those others on loose grips

Fell away blown by the wind,

Autumnal kites


Tumbling down then

Pressed to the ground,

The sun follows and

Sets without a sound,

A pathetic fallacy, again


As the darkness sets in,

And the flattened corpses

Rot from silence

Minds become warped here,

Unacknowledged till the end


Then the street lamps

Light the trees,

X-ray golden skeletons

Igniting memories

Pressed against the sky, new suns revamped.