Flowers native to North America
grow inside a fenced backyard;
saplings started from seeds sown
by birds or wind or water seeking
a spot to rest and root in some
unlikely habitat in gutters,
ditches, cracks in pavement by
the sidewalk, alleyways, and vacant lots.
The hawk in the maple tree beside the school;
the wrens outside our kitchen window
humping on their sheet-metal house, and
a brand new nest in the rambling roses
on top of the pergola; Sunday morning
dozens of butterflies swarmed the ajuga;
A family of squirrels lives halfway up
the pine beside the garage, their territory not ours.
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