Cold night. Black night. A bright moon. Its light slants between skinny, stark trees. Pale and naked. Bare of leaves. These are aspens. We speed past them in our car and the trees become barcodes found on packages you buy in the store.
The trees are up for sale too. To anyone who can afford to buy them. But they won’t be showcased or their beauty shared. Left in place for everyone to see. No. The aspens will be cut down. Razed to their roots. And big, ugly, soulless houses put in the once living green space.