Tenderly they wait
on the concrete sidelines,
these sunset lit trees
sullen and faceless
they wait
for us to slough away
and for the rush of bodies
and locomotives
to quell down in mercy

they will reclaim
the lost space
springing out from
landscape reservations
as earth's peculiar
egoist tenants fade
finally into hoary remission

they wait
they wait
and will usher us along
and out as pallbearers
through a closing time
murmuring patiently
at our spent fortune and folly:
'close the door quietly behind you,
you hominid *******, your lease is nigh'