The branches are starting to sag
Under the weight of promises
Addicted to the winds
Of Summer 

Slanted telephone poles
On their way out
More signals passing through
Bodies
Buried underground
A return to
New landscape 

Looking at what we will not know

Barking through fences
The cruel jokes
Kids play in the yard
Sealing their fates
In a blink their mother’s eye

A memory
Over and over it plays
I let it pass through
But I know it will return
Like water in the gut
A temporary home for water

Water drips from leaves
Into the asphalt
And into the grass