Guerilla Gardening

[vulturepunk]

This is a poem about planting tomatoes
In the glass-strewn bowels of an abandoned building
Where the roof is caved in and sunlight breaks through.

We clamber over the fence
With our seedlings and buckets of dirt
And clear away debris
And plant a garden

This small, defiant act
And the tomatoes will probably die
And the city will probably bulldoze this building
In a year or two
And there will be nothing left to show of you or I or anything that lived here.

But the two of us, laughing
And the sun warm on our bodies
Illuminating your copper hair, haloing your freckles
Your acne-scarred face soft and gilded in the light
And our dirt-stained fingers pressing into the earth
Our knees on the concrete and everything smelling
Of things that are growing and green.