It was the trees placed in their particular way
That made me notice the house one day
They incased it in an odd u shape
Lingering, creeping, like a crooked face
The house had fallen years ago
The trees stood staring never letting go
Death was in the ground like a poison seeping in
The trees hung like shrouds letting death soak like sin
Life grew around it like a tease in the night
Telling death to come closer to the light
It’s all too eerie to tear it all down
Like a bride never shredding the gown
You stare and you wonder what it’s like for the trees
To let everything they touch cease to be.
Along the highway, on my way to work, a group of trees partially circle a fallen house. Everything around it is dead. It’s the inspiration for this poem.