a birdsong
Jul 25, 2017 · 1 min read
foraging for field flowers in-between brick and mortar
there’s only fingerfuls of moss nestled into cement caulking
the birds no longer feast here
this ground is no longer meals for the masses, no longer worms to wrap lips around
time has proven this
the evidence
statistics
logistics
they add up to make perfect sense
yet the dirt doesn’t settle
digging doesn’t decelerate
the seeds still don’t sprout
the birds are still hungry
stop looking for love in the wrong places.
stop planting seeds where the water can’t reach them.
