The roadside tree is crying,
acid tears dripping
onto passers-by.

If it could tell its story
perhaps it would say
that the storm snuffed out its gaudy twinkle-light dress
or maybe
it mourns the loss of fashion sense -

'Were my leaves not enough to charm you?'

--

stir paint in water
the pigments will bleed red/yellow/green/black/blue/purple
concentric circles of impurity
or of a rainbow, swirling into darkness