Death Tree

I walk
Along the path where wheels are spun and
Feet tread
The morning hot, I am glad for blankets of
Cloud that hide the sun
Leaves scattered like splinters against the cement and
Like a child I step on them to hear their noise
A tree stands tall though dry
She is bound towards her base with plastic wrap
Here she holds like a mother of her young
Colourless flowers of plastic
In memory of a soul
Beside the highway as lives drive past
Someone had lost theirs
She is not dry for lack of water but
From sheding all her tears