My Version of the Hidden Curriculum

Reservation


Some trees stand with leaves unstirred
And, yet some bow, some broke
A trial of the plants’ pulp makeup
The saplings are more fragile than the oak.

The green of shoots, the yellow of foliage
Pre-programmed at Nature’s discretion
The brown mulch’s food, the cannibals tower
Lilac tinged stance carnivorously fashioned.

Sun-soaked soil, some trees still want to stand
Water-parched dirt, some trees still want to stand
Spayed barren earth, some trees still want to stand
Entrenched, anchored, unalienable.

The prevailing wind rules this land
The pungent air that wafts on jaundiced wings
The sturdier ones conditioned, the shrubs hedged
The reservation is at its best while the air stinks.


Lambert
(26/01/2000)