The Flowers Know

the trains can’t break the backs
of the wildflowers on the tracks
they bend, they sway
but seldom cry
I cannot even wonder why
they tolerate our haste
this unrelenting pace
of existence we force the world
to undertake.

Perhaps because they know
our wasted years will pass
and they in time unmeasured
with unbowed heads in legion
will make these tracks their own.

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