There was never a chance:
steal against wood,
chemicals against chlorophyll,
concrete against dirt.
Patience of time wearing thin
to the continual propositioning of progress.

Who will animate the trees to pull up their roots
before saws bite into their skin
shedding fresh sap?
Will vines wrap trespassers,
hanging them like ornaments?
Will dandelion bombs go off in offender’s eyes
and keep them at bay
or will blades of grass, making the tiniest cuts
yield enough small doses of pain
to count in our world?

Will nature hold on to the slivers of disappearing green
or will enough paperwork be stacked to the sky
to make all the no’s say yes?
Will chains rust unused
or hide from the elements in a fresh wood home
placed where centuries-old stands once stood?

– Matt McGuirk