We Are Not Familiar
We are not familiar –
we are city dwellers.
We have passed each other
on crowded city streets.
Proud yellows protruding
through concrete cracks.
I have danced with “lady slippers”
in a shaded cluster of trees –
marveled at their footwork,
I have cheered the dandelion,
that tenacious little terror,
for its unrelenting determination
to survive our mindless hate.
Small purple bells hang -
silent chimes adrift on
winnowing winds.
Bright red, the spiral twirl
of hybrid wanderers,
bred of pollinations need.
White buds of frostily
exhaled “babies breath”
lay low against the shrubs.
So I walk the city,
untamed gardens,
each earthy patch a home
where beauty may take root,
smile at passersby.
I thank the fickle winds of fate
for taunting the towering
shade makers, planting
each colored sun drop
amid the gray.
We are not “familiar”
we are city dwellers.
John G. Lawless
4/16/2016
Copyright © John Lawless | Year Posted 2016
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