there will always be weeds,
there will always be cracks
through which green pours.
There will always be ground,
feet sworn to its allegiance.
There will always be yellow faces
rimmed with a mane of white.
There will always be this,
right here, as you walk by.
This, right here, waiting
for an inch of your attention.
There will always be notice:
signs to be light seeking,
reminders you still need to grow.
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