Vacant Lot With Pokeweed by Amy Clampitt
Tufts, follicles, grubstake biennial rosettes, a low- life beach-blond scruff of couch grass: notwithstanding the interglinting dregs
of wholesale upheaval and dismemberment, weeds do not hesitate, the wheeling rise of the ailanthus halts at nothing—and look! here's
a pokeweed, sprung up from seed dropped by some vagrant, that's seized a foothold: a magenta- girdered bower, gazebo twirls of blossom rounding into
raw-buttoned, garnet-rodded fruit one more wayfarer perhaps may salvage from the season's frittering, the annual wreckage.
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