July 28, 2015

Uprising


We cover our garden
with thin white gauze,
shading the cacti
during summer,
when each plant
seeks the sun
with blind obedience,
used to being left alone,
testing their spines,
in fending off
the meddling hand.
Now, they're all arranged,
watered and weeded,
until they've grown
more like us,
worshiping the nearest
rising star,
acquiring a taste
for manicured land.
Shaded from a too bright
light, they've found
their place
to make a stand.