The trees with their almost
bare branches
Sway back and forth
To and fro
slowly losing the rainbow of leaves
to the cold hard cement
where little feet will soon
run them over
to hear the crispy crunch
of the lifeless shells

I barely see through the mangled,
tangled branches
The flags far beyond
waving in the frigid autumn wind
All the branches looking
like they grew from
one single trunk
Branches all twisted and locked
together

My veiw cut off by a cold grey metallic frame
and a fading white curtain
Inside the barren blank
white walls
Trapped in the navy blue and beige desk
I sit and wonder
My imagination slowly becoming reality
The trees break through the whitewashed bricks
and cradle me
in the smell of oak leaves
Branches taking just to the other side