Let Trees Be Trees
In downtown Houston
nets catch leaves
like fisherman catch fish
forbidding Fall from littering sidewalks
like denying springs Blue Gills & Bass.
Hundreds of leaves trapped in mesh
like coils of hair caught in Condor Bouffant caps
create simulated neighborhoods
like fashioning fraudulent self-images.
Branches bend like praying mothers;
stems break like waggling faith; &
flowers wither like shrunken souls;
confined by man’s made apparatus
like ladened by the master’s tools.
But what if we let trees be trees,
& if we cut one down
it’s like we bleed,
so we leave them alone
to simply be
loose & wild & completely free?