Out of Place
At the foot of a bleak mountain
among the broken rubble
strewn in the desolate valley
where the sun
shining bright
warms its face:
one small flower
doing its best.
Reaching ever outwards
across its rigid
unforgiving home
swaying silently
in answer to thunderous strikes
of giants striding by:
One small flower
bids my eyes rest.
Thanks for reading! :)
This is an observational poem that I wrote about a dandelion that I saw growing from a crack in a concrete walkway on campus. Hope you have a good day!
Pic is mine