an artificial land
By Edith A
the plant gropes the artificial landscape surrounding it
desperately hauling itself up as the rubble crowds its roots
dragging it down slowly as it stand alone
it grapples with the temptation to let go
to tumble down and join the fallen flora at its feet
but it holds on, silently waiting
its battered leaves wilting further
day by day
the water inches up the oath carved by time
day by day
and eventually, it seeps into the flowers' veins
a remedy for its crackled stem
its crippled leaves standing, letting go of the very thing it was torn down by
finally letting it live the life it held on for