ancient skylines
Strange people
are scurrying
here to there
each toiling in odd
obsolete jobs
I watch the timbers lean
to and fro
around the ancient grove
I find it odd that the trees grow
not where they stand
only bare limbs and broken fruits
strange people hid
their large watering eyes
blind to words of
oppression and opportunities
odd jobs and absent divinity
burning humanity
trees
tower drift in the mist across
a wasted landscape
obtuse objects drift absently
over bare auto parks
shopping malls as figures
wonder absently
stumbling strangers, odd, elongated
figures from obscure and ancient jobs
I see leaves in the dark
lit by moonbeams
drift to and fro
falling
falling
in the obsolescence
of the grove, they stand not
in the moment
but grow in fractured time
broken fruits lie rotten
upon the ground
strange people will be picking
up the pieces
in another few hours
as oily black eyes
stare out from windows
in burning houses, absent
in divinity’s sublime
strangers linger here, there
I find it very odd
oblivion objects
float on ancient skylines.
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