We talked on the concrete
We thought he was begging to listen
As we spoke
Casual, and off beat
The kind of junk that glistens
In the sun stroked air
We scuffed the hot surface
He preferred the dirt and shade
The silence
Casual, with a natural purpose
The kind that stops and fades
In the quiet of plants and things
Talk turned to talking
And we began to fear
As we spoke about his eyes
Casual by the plants, stalking
The kind of pursuit that's weird
In the nature of it all
And we stared some more
Just begging to see
As he watched with purpose
Casual, but not bored
The kind that likes the trees
But never us
