Highline

For this patch of weeds I have paid dearly
A third of my life more than the time of dreams
I can breathe again these plants entering my lungs
A Softer heart reaching out from this rocky soil
How we crave these once wild places
Abandoned, cursed, held up and remade for all of you.
Once Neglected hidden freedoms made open and public
I look out across this city of containers containing
Millions of lives flowering, fading and cutting out through stones surface
To be one of us, softly touched by the wind
bending weeds arching away from origins still standing on roots.