As I was walking down the street
I could see tiny yellow flowers
streching their tiny little leaves
from the sidewalk
I could not help staring at them
for their minuscule beauty was
both strong and delicate
around their greenish-brown bushes
stone sober pavement
They do not claim to be seen
once they are such small and naive beings
Scarcely had their fresh smell and exquisite color
been felt before that day
That day the moon was a brightly silver eye
Where the concrete dies.
