Look at the traffic,

crowding the gate,

various cars,

some early, some late

into the factory lot.

These are the rumors,

whispers and fears,

swirling on wind,

reaching the ears,

of men in the factory lot.

This is the sun,

glaring and bright,

pointing to spots,

no cars in sight,

of the vacant factory lot.

These are the seeds,

tiny and thin,

blowing in cracks,

that let them in,

of the broken factory lot.

This is the snow,

blanketing seeds,

snuggly and warm,

filling their needs,

in the wounded factory lot.

This is the spring,

drizzly with rain,

rounding the tufts,

helping attain,

a wilderness factory lot.

These are the roots,

ripping to reach,

tangling the patches,

each to each,

beneath the factory lot.

This is the thrumming,

bursting beats,

spidery rootlets

hungry to eat,

under the factory lot.

These are the petals,

gallons of gold,

brimming with richness,

splashing and bold,

of the showy factory lot.

Here’s to the lot,

that we once thought lost,

crumbled and crushed,

becoming embossed,

then won in a wonderful way.

Back Matter

• Cement can have tiny cracks due to the Earth shifting and heavy vehicles driving over it.
• Seeds can fall in these cracks.
• These weeds can lie dormant for a long time.
• They have roots that reach and connect underground.
• They thrive on soil and sun. But don’t need both.
• Many weeds produce flowers.
  • Dandelion
  • Bull Thistle
  • Bittersweet Nightshade
  • Wild Carrot
  • Burdock
  • Foxtail Grass
  • Redroot Pigweed
  • Ladysthumb
  • Bittercress
  • Henbit
  • White Clover
  • Purple Deadnettle
  • Flowering Sowthistle
  • Catchweed Bedstraw

Author’s Note:

Once I was driving in an unfamiliar part of town. I took a wrong turn and found myself on a street that led to a factory. The factory at the time was changing shifts. I was surrounded by cars that crept so slowly I thought I would never get home.

The recession hit. I learned that factory was closed. A few years went by, and once again drove by the factory. This time the parking lot had filled with weeds.

Time went by, and once again, I drove by that same factory. This time I noticed that the parking had disappeared. It was now a meadow filled with flowering plants that grew out of its cracks. To me, it was a beautiful miracle. How tiny and flexible weeds could crumble a cement parking lot until it disappeared. That was the inspiration for this true story.