As the rains pour down from heaven
They flood the earth
Destruction in their wake, from heaven.
Wisteria blooms.
A purple sea of decadent plume
adorns the intersection
Desolate concrete worn in ruin at the red light
The weeds split through the cracks
Nature reclaims its domain at the fringes, the front lines
Of a declining civilization
I’ve found the missing piece
That which I had lost, but was there, waiting to be found
Below the last shelf in a back room
Behind the camping gear
And water heater
In a crack in the foundation
of a house on a street in a town
of a country many call their home
Where we live and breathe, run and walk, sleep and dine
All at odds with father time