Cafe Stripped
The trees
that can't be seen
dot the road pre-loved
before visions
of excision
routed them
room for new movement
across lost places
felt under
with dog-head tilt
and sniff, the wet tar
following rain throbs upwards,
a strange reminder of life
verged boxes nurse little ones green
like babies
snagged in the rushes
held in the grip
of a serpent, seemingly benign
but only sleeping.