Sometimes beauty thrives on fumes
Delicately scenting traffic
Draping languidly over guardrails
Like gossamer groups of grapes.
Iíve seen your cousins cozened
Cultivated and espaliered
Preened, prepared, presented
To the pampered and refined.
But here, some accident of nature
Or, perhaps, some strange intent
To bless the autos hurtling by
With your phantom fragrance.
By now you must be unsurprised
By the momentary wonder
Delivered by distracted stares
From gridlock-stilled wide eyes.
Atop the derelict filth and rust
Bestrewn with wind-thrown cast-off trash
Blossoms rustle in spring breezes
Beckoning toward summer.