AUTUMN TREES

The thousands and millions of solar panels
have already been up for months, processing
the sunlight into a gold which suddenly
bursts out everywhere. The paths

are full of product samples, free to passers by,
their circuits trampled underfoot, turning
to soggy piles in puddles, a technology
we haven't found out yet although it glows

everywhere above our heads, below
our rushing feet. We look down, not noticing,
hunched against the cold, focused on
the latest mobile phones. Birds come and go

like migrant workers. The depths of a recession,
the end of summer but, in every town,
on the edge of every street, in every garden,
these gold factories set up, begin to open.