In view, swaying trees in sightless breeze.

Tethered plumes. Leafy throngs. Billowing balls of green. 

To these meh eyes, gesticulations without meaning — but to something(s), surely rich.

But who? Birds? Other trees? Triffids? Others, entirely other to us?

And those sounds. 

Whooshing. Fluttering. Shimmering. Rustling.

Noises thought dumb, by the dumb only.

Some finer calibrated cochlea is versant in this tongue. 

Needed, a Course in General Floro-Lingusitics. (Or would it be Phyto-Linguistics?) 


All around, aliens abut aliens. 

¯\_(ö)_/¯