They blossom
up from the soil, in which
they were first grown
on a different street
for no one, is planted here
underneath
the interstate.
Out from the floral spread
of the prosperous, Third Ward,
is a grievous sight
and I, am enraptured
by this scene in the city
of swollen summer loads
and multi-storied canopy
that flourish, like the
common wood violet.
I still exist. Been busy, but happy holidays!