Acer saccharum presses through the folds
Quercus alba claims the B line north
Folded corners bloom in sepia ink
Time grows slower than a dormant seed
Paper roots drink rain from broken skies
Stations sprout like mushrooms after frost
No conductor calls the next arrival
Only wind reads legends in the keys
Betula pendula traces the express
Pinus strobus guards the transfer point
Ticket booths now host Polypore shelves
Mycelium maps the underground
Paper roots drink rain from broken skies
Stations sprout like mushrooms after frost
No conductor calls the next arrival
Only wind reads legends in the keys
Salix babylonica weeps on platforms
Populus tremula quakes at every gust
Route markers fade to lignin and spore
Autumn writes in chlorophyll and rust
Paper roots drink rain from broken skies
Stations sprout like mushrooms after frost
No conductor calls the next arrival
Only wind reads legends in the keys
Taxus baccata shadows the turnstiles
Ginkgo biloba fans in golden drifts
Legend keys decompose to humus dark
Every line returns to loam and lichen
She kneels with trowel, Latin on her tongue
Measures p
H where turnstiles clicked and clacked
No nostalgia — only propagation
Life insists on reading between lines
Fraxinus americana lifts the map
Ulmus americana arches overhead
New growth follows vectors of the old
Transit maps become trellis, become home
Paper roots drink rain from broken skies
Stations sprout like mushrooms after frost
No conductor calls the next arrival
Only wind reads legends in the keys
Paper roots drink rain from broken skies
Stations sprout like mushrooms after frost
No conductor calls the next arrival
Only wind reads legends in the keys
Roots read maps the trains never knew
Autumn turns the page to spring again
