Maple seedlings left alone,
to fight and try
to crowd one another out
edging towards the light
--leaning, yearning
for the sun and growth and life.
Oh, but they will be mercilessly mowed down
and no maple hardwood forest
will ever grow in our backyard...
just crab grass and clover
--as wild as our suburban lawn
will ever be.
Nice try though,
propeller seeds
that clog our
gutters and
delight
our kids
hurled so
high into
the air...
to fight and try
to crowd one another out
edging towards the light
--leaning, yearning
for the sun and growth and life.
Oh, but they will be mercilessly mowed down
and no maple hardwood forest
will ever grow in our backyard...
just crab grass and clover
--as wild as our suburban lawn
will ever be.
Nice try though,
propeller seeds
that clog our
gutters and
delight
our kids
hurled so
high into
the air...
and spin down,
spin down,
spin down.
spin down,
spin down.
1 comment:
I like your poem :-).
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