isolation in a world full of life

listening to the trees in the forest
tell me about the many
adventures
us humans had concerning love, hate,
and
everything else in between and
infinitely more complex, such
abstract

expression, men who were hung
for
"crimes", chased by other men who
led by dogs
that could smell your
fear, and yet a hundred
years
later this was under
consideration

they wanted to expand the
city,
yet, the government wanted it to
remain as a
remainder and memorial to
some, if a body is completely
deteriorated
and eaten by worms and vermin,
and

weathered beyond recognition,
is there
a skull hanging off of a rope,
a skeleton, such a parody of a
life
which one was, so you could get sugar
or cotton
for someone who refuses to

pay you, but I see us
talking,
exchanging ideas, enthused, and
it is hard
to think it was ever
like that, people who "met"
each
other under these trees

you might spread a cotton
blanket
out over the grass and sit back
and look into
the universe, it
might have been romantic,
children
might have ran through the
grass

chasing butterflies at the top
of the
day, the sun beating down
upon them, yet these trees
disappear,
until they're zoned and labeled
for
destruction and a legion of
environmentalists

hold hands and form a wall around
the
entire area, you don't miss anything
until it is
gone, although I thought
I was forgotten, that lonely night
yet
To meet everyone else who was ever here