Weedy Lot Poem by Liilia Talts Morrison

It was an empty forlorn lot
no focal point to rest
the eye and take a closer look
by nature to be blessed

Harsh shadows crept from hidden nooks
as clearings had been turned
by sun and dust and searing heat
to nought as weeds soon burned

The grass had burned and burned and burned
as time pressed slowly by
gray sand and broken glass remained
ignored by passersby

There was no pathway for a trek
to walk across this plot
no branch or bush popped out to say
touch me, forget me not

The few that wandered past this place
would move without delay
they'd flee to greener, softer scenes
where no harsh shadows played

The weary shacks beyond this span
were like an arm that's cut
small amputated wooden boards
where only rats would squat

This lot drew out all strength and hope
from those who'd stop and sit
no optimistic soul would say
lets fix this up a bit

Those who may wonder where the wind
or stormy clouds descend
may never see the place of doom
where all that's hopeless ends

All boundaries and rules of law
lose meaning in this field
illusions and fair hopes of man
to shrouds of pathos yield.