It’s amazing the places flora can grow.
An old boot cast onto the riverbank,
now home to grass and daisies.
A rusted bike, complete with basket,
that holds a sign for a local cafe
obscured by ivy fingers.
A school bus long since rolled onto its side
by people with nothing better to do
has become a greenhouse for wildflowers, mushrooms
and lichen.
And abandoned buildings, whole cities even,
thought to be left only for ghosts and radiation,
have instead become forests.
Concrete, toxic jungles
now just
jungles.
Treeshallow Musings 