That deserves protection
This little “weed”
I love so dearly
That I stand guard
In protest
As violent machines
Roar past
Slicing greenery
With their sharp blades
As flashing, flicking wires slash and slit
indiscriminately
Along turf's edge
What is this plant
That occupies my time
If so called weeds
By their very nature
Spread
Why is my help needed
To replant
To reseed
To protect from poison
For appearances sake alone
For contracts made
Without nature’s consent
What is this plant
Seasonably celebrated
Subtle sour succulent
Shedding tear shaped leaves
As mowers run roughshod
Through the free produce aisle
Along the curb
This playground garden
Kept as an example
Until razor sharp teeth
Rip through
Leaving nothing but crumbs
For the ants
Where the children play
But not today, not today
I stand in protest
With my picking tools
Lined up like pickets' tools
Shielding precious purslane
For future food lessons
Munchies for birds and bees
Tree huggers have nothing on me
Workers in broad rimmed hats
Stare confused
Instruments of destruction
And cellphones in hand
Awaiting instruction
With a handshake it's done
The natives are spared
Saved to flower another day
I suffer mixed feelings
For disrupting workers
For one last reprieve
Will it weaken my leverage
For new trees
I take up my spade
Liberate the weeds
Fiercely protective of the roots
Now tucked safely between pollinators
For kinders to taste
In their sensory garden
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