Aspens reclaim the ski slopes where lifts stopped turning
Stone walls wander through woods that swallowed the pasture
Overgrown orchards drop their fruit on ground no one picks
Beaver dams flood the roads that once led somewhere
Fire towers stand dark above forests whose lookouts retired
Kudzu drapes the water towers of towns that moved on
Vines stitch the windows of greenhouses that stopped growing
Saplings split the steps of buildings nobody enters
Moss writes its name on gravestones no one visits
Wild bees hive in walls of houses the wind owns now
