in an abandoned car dealership
a barren parking lot
on the western edge of the empty space
lies a brick planter full of bushes
once ornamental plants
plants that once decorated
are now reverted, wild in the
midst of an urban badland
signs of life try to break
beyond the confines of once
a prison pedestal,
dark purplish spiny tentacles
thorned blackberry vines creeping away
freed from preconceived notions
this morning, on the moist pavement
fallen leaves from the spindly arms
are mounded around vines
like funerary fuel, ready
for ignition, waiting for rain
stubbornly holding on to the moisture
from last night’s rain
the pattern of life across the hard surface
speak defiantly against waste
briars want to pull at me,
peeling bits of skin, making me leave
a little of myself behind for
the unborn souls of a unborn forest
–son dao, january 2005
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