Weatherproof

by Charmaine Frost

Those green blades and buds are man-made
From cut plastic or torn rags: We recognize
Rain when umbrellas sprout on wet-darkened streets
Like mushrooms in damp cellars; with high-rise eyes,
Guess at sunniness when a glowing finger pokes
Between tall towers. Blue light flickers wall to wall
On a vacuumed vista always dry and neat,
Climate thermostatically corrected, air sifted
Clean of particulates drifting to walks below
Where now only monthly profits grow.

Aqua, turquoise, sea-green, teal;
Silver, ashen, mid-toned, steel?
I see the real through factory-tinted shades;
Cement and cypress are man-made.