Full blown
Shapeshifters
Of streets and shops.
They swirl dervishlike.

When they stop,
I mistake them for dead crows,
Suffering rats,
Run over cats.

They meditate
In sheltered spaces
And parking places.
Near extinction
Almost fiction

Elevated by balloon ambitions
And skyward missions
Plastic projections of our
Longing for solutions
To pollution
(it's all their fault! ).