i am a weed
I am a weed woody, gangly, no lipstick, no shine.
But I know how to grow through cement.
I know how to take a sliver of filtered sunlight and a teaspoon of dirt and make a life.
I can’t go deep so I go wide, fingers crawling under city streets, down past Front Street— and around the corner, to the end of the block and back again.
~ j. avellana