Poetry: THE LOVER-TREES

There she

stood

separated by mere metres but made

into a

Gulf

by the

air-breathers

in their mad yet inexorable

dash to

what they call 

progress

dirt path becomes

stone road

and 

sole hovel

like an amoeba

subdivides

morphing into

low-rise

apartment

concrete wall

and curbside like 

girds

roundabout

Him

even as he 

spired upward

virile

and  she

daintily

yet resolutely

seated

among manicured gardens

outwardly still

not wishing

to betray the

titanic passions

that stirred within her own core

And still upward

and outward

he reaches

mindless threading

power lines

until

abetted by the 

genlte

breezy shards of 

distant passing cyclones

their branches

their leaves

feel that

furtive

first touch

electricity

sharper than lightning

courses harmlessly the length of them

and now in the heat

of a Virgo day

they throw themselves

into mad congress

with stunning abandon

uncaring

for yet is heard

the not too distant whirrr

of

the buzzsaw