peopleless

in the suburb’s relentless stride

towards ordinariness, there forms

a community of shrubby weavers

replacing quietness with the sound

 

of greenness. oblivious to me,

to the station-walkers plodding

to work, to shifting sighs, worn

lines, our restless minds

 

we disappear

from their continuity, their patch

pristine even as our feet drag heavily,

borers on another’s ground

 

 

Copyrighted by the author

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