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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