Embrace Of The Flowers After The Dust

The jackhammers carry a tune that's painful to my drums

The nails march along and in the structures, remaining still afterwards

The grey river of concrete has barriers to prevent several stomps

The men and women of steal, shout amidst the clouds and grime


I can't wait to walk past, as it seems like a journey across the Mojave 

I want to see something that was grown with the gentle appendages 

Not as much noise as it took for the hard build that rises beside me

So many more, can grow these than those 


As I get closer to what I want to embrace and savor

Its scent seems to come out more, as it becomes aware of my closeness 

We've never met on a formal basis, I with the voice and it without one

No hand shaking required, just a mental greeting from us both


Without speaking, it can sense my joy of it being around 

Its peacefulness, it realizes is needed by me

Too much loudness, I can't quiet it with a bullhorn or firm whisper 

The flowers have never caused my lobes to ring and tremble 


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