Young Mother
Young mother, did you know?
Flowers will wither in concrete and cold.
Don't fool yourself.
Did you ever see a petal bloom in a bottle or syringe?
From outside the embrace of the son.
Or the glade of free will?
Has anything ever flowered from a crack house latrine?
From the mouth of puking guns or fatherless streams.
Young mother, don't twist the sky
your garden is in flames.
Don't let them pearl your mind.
Gather up your yearlings before they catch fire.
Nothing will grow in concrete and cold.
Young mother, did you know?
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