People walk by casually in street clothes
They think they have put up a barrier between
themselves and nature
but nature is right in front of them
inside a small circle of dirt that has been
surrounded by concrete.
Even now it creeps out-
shooting runners full of leaves and flowers
onto the neatly paved walkway
We call them weeed, these little plants
that are too tempestuous for our domestication.
Truly though, they are nature's new survivalists
able to take foothold in a tightly patrolled environment
They are surrounded by men with bottles of herbicide
and yet they press onward, undaunted by prospects
of their own deaths
And once these weeds take root
the garden will eventually be lost
for try as he might, the gardener cannot
pull all the remnants of the weeds from the ground
our little soldiers will overthrow
the sellout pansies, dafodils and chrysanthemums
blocking out their light and taking back
what they once owned.
Then the gardner will have no say so in the matter
and the weeds will finally be left to their own devices.