a traumatic memory
It was a long time ago.
His hair was not white for example.
He was a boy
here on this street
it happened.
Maybe he couldn't stop the thing or make it unravel the way he wanted.
Surely, he lost
control.
But whatever the act
standing back on this spot, staring deeply
He realized what he could have done
if he had just stopped
and considered thinking.

Buildings are unnecessarily intimidating.
Angry even.
The trees shake and cower in fear of the mighty blocks and beams. And well they should. For they know that every year, the buildings become greater and their numbers larger, while of trees there are fewer and of smaller breeds. It is unlikely trees notice the presence of people at all. Just a steadily advancing force of brick and mortar, slowly surrounding them from all directions.