Rooted In Place

Although they
can step into the air and escape,
feeling at home
in this world gone colorless,
crows blend with
the season’s desolate beauty.
Stoic sentinels to
the great escape taking place,
stiffened trees
shoulder the concrete weight
of an exposed sky.
A one-way route pointing south,
all afternoon, it
has been a busy highway with
traffic honking.
As dusk’s encroachment erases
crows and trees,
bent over my rake, I too vanish,
rooted in place.

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