An Old Factory in Footscray
It has stood abandoned for years,
the toxic soil too costly
for developers to clean up.
It's vast, dark, gutted interior
echoes an absence.
And yet a tuft of grass
has pushed up through the oil
soaked concrete floor beneath
a shaft of sunlight falling
from a hole in the ceiling.
It grows on this narrow stage,
a thin beam of light enough
to sustain it and drip a little
moisture down for it to sip.
It clings onto life
as a poem does, pushing
through a crack in the soul,
seeking out enough light
for it to live for awhile
in a hostile world.
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