They observe,
from the sidelines
behind human boundaries
mutely.
Ghosts of past,
felled by hunters,
now shed skins, peeling,
naturally.
Wheels pass by,
not unlike time,
in twos, threes, and sixes—
boundless.
Fiercely defiant,
owners of the land,
masked in ashen white—
eucalypti.
Note: Eucalypus, or gum trees, are beautiful trees to stare at. They’re endemic to south-eastern Australia, where I now live.
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