useless art

the grass is broken down, bent flat
flaxen purpose left to seed
flanked by tall pine trees
grinding each other
branches fighting
like children’s hands
reaching for a teddy bear

i am waiting on the stairs
stiff against the rusting
rail, once proud black
now frail and orange
dirt eroding to dust
and i stand in the center
of this cool spring evening
leaning towards my car
and the road

and i used to stand in the center
of the circle, just past the
driveway, four abrupt trees
squaring the curves, and the
sky shifts so quietly over my eyes
and I take a long deep breath
and the sun sets inside of me
when I let it free
and go back inside