Litter of leaves

In the tall trees
bare twigs cannot shake off
whispering
whisps of suffocation;
designed to keep out life's passing
plastic refuses
to die.

Rich shadow-cool leaf mould
holds the cast
hopes of future shade -
beech mast, acorns,
wizened berries, seeds
of ash and birch

but also lurid, alien sleeves which held
forgotten crisps and sweets.
Cans with fading letters
trap rain and then rust-rot so
trusting feet,
thinking themselves safe in their own home
are not.
And under an oak
glass, transparent as rain
but always staying the same
where it has lain since it was thrown
to hit a stone and broke
will cut and lame
again and again.