Outside the window,
it will always be there. The leaves fall on janitors,
supervisors and time as if stroking. When blame
falls, a viridescent river of light tumbles out of the sky.
It is a mirror of you, walking out of reality for a sip
of soothing rain. Knowing that you are a small piece
of future splintering, you can’t get past the corridor
made of spring to meet the branches. You perched
on your wings, looked outside, and flew inside of yourself.
From: https://poetrysociety.org.uk/poems/an-office-is-a-tree-dancing/
Date: 2023
By: Kexin Huang (19??- )
From Troubles of The World 