A silver tree beckons
from its desolate plot.
A flotilla of ancient ships,
their rusted hulls plying garden sands,
or weary waves
migrating to a welcoming shore.
symphonies of shadows dance
amongst the bulk of metal
creating beauty of their own.
a poem of interpretation
is up to us.
From the cities frantic commerce
along a calming path
a stand of quaking aspens
arises

. .