By Cheri Germain
branches poking through chain link fences
point at me as i pass by
laughter erupts from their leaves rustled
by whistling wind
echoing through my bones
shaking my fragile sprouting heart
growing longer
twigs snapping through
pushing me farther off the sidewalk into
the street
spindly deciduous fingers twist and tangle
into my hair
tugging me back
damp leaves in the tread of my boots off
the cold wet concrete
scraped unto their deathbed of a welcome
mat
