I am like that now, a green stem that will
bend, not stay ground. Push my head into
the down, blind me dirtily, put a heel on
the back, rub the reject in, confound the chances,
step on, dance the stomping jig, bite,
incise, nibble and tear, do the most with
your worst. Would-be destroyers, all the same:
Count not the reservoir of recuperation
the underdog, underfoot, underlooked powers
we flowers have. Born in the wild we wild
will be. Wild as wily, wild as wiry,
wild as wise. Wait for the tramplers and
stampers to pass. Come see us in the aftermath:
green stems lift like light, violet
petals shake out the pleats: wild glory.
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