Urban Perspicacity

[In the current project at Cafe Writing is a prompt to consider the following quote,

Weather means more when you have a garden. There's nothing like listening to a shower and thinking how it is soaking in around your green beans.

then use it as inspiration to write a poem about weather meaning more. This isn't what I set out to write, but some days I don't get to choose.]



Urban Perspicacity


I live with selfish city-dwellers,
who dream a stream of endless sunny days,
each rainless golden day melting into the next.

I hear the plants whimper with thirst,
and steel myself against their desperation.


I commute to work with urbanites,
who wish away winter and the cold and snow,
and delight in January thaws.

I crave the soft, white, insulating blanket back,
to tuck in around the tender feet of my shrubs.


I work with blinkered pedestrians,
who delight in suddenly unseasonably warm days,
amidst the slow crawl from winter to spring.

I pray the tree buds stay locked tight
against the cold days still to come.


I toil in air-conditioned isolation,
with those who dread umbrellas cluttering the hall,
and wet floors and spots on the newly-washed car.

I smile at the relief of parched plants,
and my mouth waters in anticipation.