The City Center pt. II (Washtenaw)

I don’t care of the trees they grow
Or the grass they mow and lay
I wish for the trees to grow this way and cover the hills where the houses are built

Their fruits are nice
But a different color than those grown by the will of the moon and sun
Their strawberries were nourished by light, but not the light of God

For when I travel to their countries and the sides of their city
The sun shines but the dirt does not glow
It smells not of animal, and their crops in unnatural rows

Give me weeds with flowers
Flowers with fruit and bees with their honey to pollinate
I’ve seen green, but your fresh leaves are not.