These trees are a trap.

5 October 2016

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/tree/

It was night time

Time under stars

Stars of gold and white

White was where I lived

White like the moon

The moon, an endless eye

Eye of white

White as the light reflected off the water

Water under trees of oak and sycamore

Sycamore was where I lived

On a street that was always cold

Cold even under stars

Stars that drooped and jumped

Jumped over chimneys filled fire

Fires lit for a purpose

A purpose to warm the cold

Cold was where I lived

By a lake that is filled

Filled with clear water

Clear water that everyone says is blue

Blue is the color of tissue boxes and birds

Birds are blue

Blue is not the color of water

Water flows the lies

Lies was where I lived

On the sidewalks there are weeds

Weeds that grow

Grow just like any other flower

Flowers are treated with respect

Respect is not treated to the weeds

Weeds was where I lived

Stars still sit in that sky

That sky that’s always cold

Cold was the water

Water that is clear

Clear, not blue

Blue is the color of birds

Birds can’t fly away where I live

I live where the birds are stuck

Stuck in the sycamores and on the telephone wires

Wires are everywhere, where I live

I live where wires string through the stars

Stars that are supposed to live in the sky

Sky so filled with wires

Wires that lace down fences

Fences around empty houses

Empty houses that have wires

Wires down their sides

Sides strung with wires

Wires was where I lived

Sometimes I ask, why so many wires

Wire that drain the stars

Why so many caged birds,

Birds that cannot fly

Why so many weeds

Weeds not treated like they are alive

Why so many lies

Lies that water is blue

Why so much cold

Cold that lights our fires

Why so many trees

Trees that cage more than birds

Why a moon

A moon that makes me feel too small

Why stars

Stars that light the sky with a looming brightness that isn’t bright

Bright is a concept that none of us know

Known not because things are not bright here

Here things emit no light

Or maybe they do

And I have no light to see them

For all I see

Is a cold street

A cold street with venomous trees

Trees that trap birds

Birds that sit on wires

Wires that drain stars

Stars that loom next to the moon

The moon, an eye across water

Water that is clear

Clear like the sidewalks

Sidewalks that know no mercy on weeds

Weeds are foreign

Foreign as I for all I see on this street is a dungeon

While others see the suburbs