J u n k y ar d  F l o w e r

by Jerry Lincoln


Rise precious flower,
hold strong against your
meek surroundings.
Roots now grounded
in cold metal and
broken glass; you stand
proud, looking directly
into the sun.
Sending out your SOS
on the delicate wings
of bees and butterflies;
you hope because you
can see.
You cry because
you are alive.