There was a frontage road once in a while
and a set of unnamed seedlings
sunning under their sunhats.
Someone ignored the powerlines
or rather, the powerbill. There was
a feeder road with a feathered tail
that clutched at decision
so hard it’s plumes went corkscrew.
The where of some salted in
it’s unknown future, meanwhile
the bicycle wheels worked fine,
meanwhile the sun stirred the sky
like a woodstick in honeyed tea.