Saturday, November 2, 2013

Harris Tobias


Outside my window, the trees have changed their
Long green gowns for slutty skirts
I swear I do not know what’s gotten into them
They were once so proper and refined
I shake my head and purse my lips
They leave me feeling outraged and unkind

Outside my window, the trees are throwing a party
I, of course, am not invited. Every tree gaudily attired.
They seem excited, excessive might be a better word
Tossing confetti, making a spectacle of themselves
Their vigorous behavior make me feel old and tired

Outside my window, the trees have gone on strike.
They are no doubt angered by the changing rules
Shorter hours and colder nights are not at all to their liking
They throw down their tools and quit, the fools
At least they stand for something, I wish I had their grit

Outside my window, the trees are on the move
Waving their bright flags of revolution, yellow and red
Already the streets are littered with their dead
There can be but one resolution to this fight
I close my window against the unconquerable night

Outside my window, the trees are bare.
Their arms raised in defeat, all hopes dashed.
The party ended, the rebellion smashed,
The strikers in full retreat. For another year the trees
Have tried. There’s something noble in their resistance
They may have surrendered but they have not died
I hide my eyes and weep for their persistence.

© Harris Tobias 2013

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