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.