Across from the farm
clouds gather densely
grey lavender blue
cover the west
Trees hacked at powerline level
become candelabras
Branches sprout like hands from the wounds
grasping for life
Birds glide from one tree to another
changing, then changing their minds
Daffodils, violets
The scent of cut grass
Cows cling to the hills like burrs
A bonsai is training to bow and bend
strapped in a submissive posture
Neighbors gather in a driveway
their radio urging Crybaby to cry
Seven pink flamingos
gather near a doorstep
a weeping cherry
every other tree distorted
The sun glows apricot
in a line at the horizon
a river of light
fueling the trees, the birds, the neighbors, the town