Black Smoke

Speechers enwrapped in ribbons and banners,
gnash teeth, beat drums, and dance through trees,
resanctifying ancient memorials and statues
on humid summer days with buzzing mosquitoes.

Black smoke bending through trees,
a guy with a frog in his pocket,
new signs marking a crumbling road
on cold winter days, in quiet obscurity.

Night feeders in moonlit gardens
watch for changes, for low hanging fruit,
and low hanging branches,
in quiet obscurity.