Yet Laced

From an overpass
On a high linear track
I peered through gray train glass
Uncharted homes,
Stack of tin, trick of twine;
Uncounted people counting on the owner
Not bulldozing the land that day.
Over the backside of the hill
Small white flowers lay
Front yard of the underpass
Sprawled through wispy grass
Spilling down the black muddy bank
Into the littered bay
And culminating in a mass of silt and grime:
the black from the train
And the stray pollutant strained lime
Grain of trash bedded down
In the lifeless waterway
Yet laced with small white flowers
Advertisements

One thought on “Yet Laced

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s