Not really a poem

Here, empty college campus
populated with pale trudging staff
in sudden spring sun
treeshadows distinct for once since . . . uh,
students gone
major research institution
heavily funded installation
equipped for branded gain
in a light wind from east by northeast
witness endless wings
butterflies
all on the same course
northwest
low, high, in and over trees, buildings, bicycles, libraries, busses, hats, parkinglots, kiosks, lawns, labratories, offices, leaves, seas of blowing seed
islands of trees fill with birdsong describing this and other travel
in spring.