A Poem – “The Green Party”


At the edge of the parking lot,

in a crack between pavement and curb,

a seedling.


Only about three inches tall, but

I can tell it’s a maple.


It will never grow to its full potential, and

may be chopped to the ground

next time the gardener mows.



I appreciate the vitality,

the struggle to be noticed in a place

where everything gets suppressed

between a rock and a hard place.


Until then,

there is a seedling.


(Editor’s note: poet Shai Ben-Shalom, an Israeli-born biologist, examines current events in the Blacklock’s tradition each and every Sunday)

Back to Top