A Pome a Day for a Year

The branches of that tree are weird,
sure I see tree branches like every other,
but do they see the robot formed of twigs,
bent and furled, causing it to reach out
to some unknowable goal?

Do they see,
if they tilt eyes a different angle,
the cartoon man from Moomin world
sat on chair, leaning on arm,
gazing longingly
into tower blocks opposite?

Just the one tree, for there are hundreds,
all with reaching ends,
attempting purchase of intangible images.
These shapes of things,
of events and items and people and places,
appear everywhere and with just a slight
stare, I fill my world with mystery.