My Life
We are surrounded by trees.
In the summer we peek through the leaves,
At our neighbors yards with no trees.
On both sides are monster house,
Not many people live in each one.
Makes you wonder how the cleaning is done.
No one wonders about outside,
Failure to thrive.
One wonders who is alive.
Occassional workmen pull up in their trucks,
The only reasons we know
Are the bang, clatter, and muck.
We used to walk down the street,
Withour pups at our feet.
Now they are big and we are to slow.
You know we still have our trees,
Each fall the leaves turn brown and hit the ground,
Each spring the branches have dances with new leave all around.
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