Get Your Premium Membership

City Trees

They do not know I name them— the trees blackened by exhaust, asthmatic, stoic gods lining pedestrian bridges that never forget. Each leaf is a reluctant confessor. Each trunk remembers how I once pressed my palm and thought: You too are surviving this. I walk past ads that scream at no one. Past lovers who will never call again. Even the sky here has bills to pay. But I stay, because someone has to remember the dust collecting on invisible altars.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Reflection on the Important Things