Little victories

Written by: Jeremy Martin

The city moves and laughs and sings
Of lurid lights and fancy things 
Of static electricity 
And many opportunities 

The acid clouds are dismal gray 
Leave not a single trace of day 
Wind withers and regains its speed
A buried, lonely poplar seed 

But while the city screams and clanks 
And people march in suited ranks 
A little light the clouds do show
Wait now, the seed begins to grow