TO CONQUER LOWS

  They keep some of us stowed away

  like pirate loot and window display,

  Notice the color of white, far richer than clouds.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Admire the stalks—pink like ocean pebbles and stretched out proud.

  You preen when they admire the rich life of growth

  and shudder when they mock the few white flags

  that drag down—don’t look at me. They brag

  and smile as you frantically search for the undergrowth,

  but their sharp words like rose pricks

  will not feed the thirsty soil of your soul.