Hard Times Ganged Up

Grown apart in the circles
of hot and cold the concrete
fracture swallowed the seed. Executing

their roles without choice
or consent the sun and clouds
just did what they do. Abandoned

into foster care without care
the wild rose raised above the
squalor of its birth. Surviving

streams of yellow poison,
steeled boots and toxic gasps of
accelerating buses. Persevering

to burst fragrant amid
stationary sandals and sighs
of adoration. Radiating

until it was snipped out to
rest eternally on a kitchen counter
four stories up. Disconnected

from the crazed walk
on a barren turf but
in a soul sort of way.

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