Girl big-screen-tv windowed out
and by now neighboring
Trees had
Leaves.
Not knowing their proper names, she called them
Dolly, Ginger and Thelma to go
with the turntable and rotary phone of her furnished
intern landscape.
When she was early rising, the four
of them watched
Sun crawl down
Hill.
Windy days hurled them about.
She guessed at their whispering when
Fog settled or
Deer grazed nearby.
They all seemed to have a good laugh when
Wild Turkey gobbled past.
They had each felt a bit naked in the beginning.
Girl had averted her eyes on several
occasions—not wanting to seem a voyeur.
Leaves' filling-in and swaying and the sound of
Ocean had brought them into the same
rhythm. They could all breath a bit easier now.