The ghosts of the plane trees
by Andrea Ferrari (aferrari@stmari.edu.ar)

tree stumps line the street on both sides
disjointed lopsided limbs lie
felled out as from a man that still stands
in body trunk silence observing its carnage
in pieces of a puzzle now impossible

cars that need more street
side indifferent

didn’t hear the grind spray of
sawdust in spurts or each thump
as it grunted on dry grass

but at night their ghosts rise
thin translucent holographic
towards a dark heaven

ghosts arms upwards in neon white
transparent leaves in innocent
carbon dioxide shine

couldn’t hear if roots murmured growth
or were whispering of soil silence
when machines came and removed stumps