And the branches held tight
To the handsome few that remained,
But those others on loose grips
Fell away blown by the wind,
Autumnal kites
Tumbling down then
Pressed to the ground,
The sun follows and
Sets without a sound,
A pathetic fallacy, again
As the darkness sets in,
And the flattened corpses
Rot from silence
Minds become warped here,
Unacknowledged till the end
Then the street lamps
Light the trees,
X-ray golden skeletons
Igniting memories
Pressed against the sky, new suns revamped.