Through raindrop-streaked windows,
I see treetops reaching toward gray clouds,
The highest trunks yielding healthy green domes.
Scanning downward, some are cicada-stricken:
Brown tips sagging limply.
Further still: bare wood, all the way from branch tips
Down, down, out of view.
Living together –
I imagine sharing memories of better days, perhaps –
Appearing together as lush forest.
Can we learn from such diverse-laden unity?
Solace for homeless birds in July.
Solace for hot creatures below.
Solace for weary eyes through water-soaked panes.