As a child
my backyard
was a sewage plant
beside a junk yard
between mounds of rubble and

I used to find flowers
in the most unlikeliest of places

-a fresh tulip
growing out through the cracks
of an abandoned factory floor
without explanation
or thriving
under the husk of a dead car
hushed in the shadow
stoically vibrant.

It was inspirational that they appeared
where they were
where they grew
seemingly out of nothing
nowhere
here

in places like this
not on the emerald lawns of
glass houses across town
but in these abandoned corners of
neglect
rust and decay

there was always a robust
flower
peaking out of
impossibly corrupt terrain
to shine out among the drab
the dull
the lifeless wasted forgotten
neglected areas
where it gave rich color
to a dead palette and

where it mattered.