Hard Life

   by John Keane, UK

Lonely fern clings onto blackened brick
Labile fronds rusted by seasons
Soiled sap leeching through its veins
Above cold tracks and speeding behemoths
 
A street light bathes it gold each night
Exhaust pipes give it mouth-to-mouth
Hard trickling rain slakes its patient thirst
October gales enfold it in cool wings.

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