Umbrella Scars

The night sky
is Mother Nature's
black polka dot dress.
Wind rolling gravel
blood stains of scab's
past painting silhouettes
on the points of sublimating
blades of grass.

Veins pose as tree branches
to capture the attention of the wind.
Growing leaves, a side effect of love,
mass production only to fall en automne.

Avert your eyes from
the umbrella scars
hanging in the sky,
providing limited sunlight
to a field of rusted scissors.

Projectors purr,
manifesting clouds
and pollution against
the infinite blue canvas.
While the flowers that
divide a sarcastic avenue
melt down to provide
scented heroin for the
junkies in the hive.