The tree has fallen
[Listening to Stop the dams]
Metal, from the keys in my pocket to the destructive roar of the machines.
The penetrating sound of an ambulance. Noise.
Faded sounds of birds. A little metal wind chime.
A dying plant in a pot with dry soil.
Once there was a beautiful forest.
A place that would only be illuminated by the stars at night.
Too many led lights burn my eyes.
A disrupted natural flow, a sickening grey concrete that annihilates.
The smell of smoke with no fire to be seen.
Void tries to be filled with garbage.
The tree has fallen.
Looking at the sky disconnected from its roots while thousands of cars pass by and nobody notices.