My favorite flowers are the ones
that grow in ditches.
I almost miss them,
cruising ten over the limit because I’m late for an appointment,
or idling bumper to bumper at five o’clock when every driver wants the road to himself,
just as I glaze over Pain crying out from the curbs of my heart,
“Pay attention to me…!”
The yellow goldenrod nod
from their bridge slopes,
the white daisies wave
from their ditch basins,
and giant freckled sunflowers bow
to my tires along the shoulder.
they first caught my eye,
I look for them all over the place, specks of beauty against
a backdrop of litter and broken concrete,
simple and unpretentious, unlike
the suburban garden variety–
yet fully aware of their glory in all its wild beauty.
How is it that weeds so striking
can grow out of the wayside?
the flower’s sole purpose is to arrest attention,
halt the hurried journey,
and make the world stand still,
even if only for a second.