The birds perched on the powerlines
little musical notes

People sped by in their exoskeletal suits
hands-on wheels and eyes on their pursuits

Weeds grew toward the sun
only opening when the rays would meet them

A man sped by with a mower
and the flowers bled pollen

The birds sang songs of blood and sex
a territorial language penetrating the sky

Traffic lights glowed red
as did the embers of time

Another sunset
before the next sunrise