This lounge at dusk 
Full of whispering
Long shadows.

Three sitters on the windowsill
— snake plant, jade plant, maidenhair vine—
Savour the humid soil
Of their flowerpots 
Staring with envy 
The mighty trees 
Swaying their branches
In the chilly wind.

Tall
Defiant 
Imposing
Like the selves 
they long to be 
When night veils 
Their true stature
And only the interior 
Is visible.