Leaves and grass grown in places
rather odd than usual,
not a believer of fences
or reservations but
from a plant's miniature view,
nothing around gives a
hint of its bloom,
either all sand or dust or
mud or anything but
not a neighbour even slightly alike,
my eyes and thoughts
won't engage with the
commitments made prior
before the untypical growth
made its existance
quite captivating and clear.
More or less, I envy
the oddness it aquires,
if it grew with blind eyes,
then its darkness I admire,
for these days, let alone growing,
we tend to look around to
match the...