The Electric Trees Poem by Christoph Praus

The trees watch carefully,
Sending out their invisible aura,
In slow, rhythmic pulsations,
Few leaves are winding down,
Even less will touch the ground;

Lucky those held in esteem,
Shine emerald in the light,
Ever decreasing though,
The darkness is showing;

The worrisome strings,
Of a violin sting my ears,
Electric nonsense stirs something,
Inside me, but vey briefly,
The trees spark, shatter.