Old Trees

They were old trees now bending by the kerb
Wondering if they should cross
They were reflections in the rain
More bodied there than anywhere
They were animals pawing space
Seeking space
Turning in circles making space to lie
They were old chewed cigarette ends
Sucking in the dirty rain
As they were sucked
Seeking space to lie.
They were pools of dirty rain running round
The base of the lamp-post
Licking it and lapping it, burnt-out waves.
The dead matches surfed upon them
And whorled and whirled to the drain.
They were not what they once were
Consoled each the other
"Nothing is what it once was."