Musings on the bus

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 and they’re endemic to south-eastern Australia where I now live.

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