Black Tar Gone Gray

thin blue chalk line up on black tar
gone gray called concrete curbs
set -not reset- since The Great Depression.

where old weeds
the same weeds
new weeds grow

sometimes, though sometimes
a dandelion grows, too
sometimes, though some time

a kid picks it up -plucks it up-
blows the parachute cotton-
picked soft seeds to the wind

sometimes- so few times
float to full wishes fulfilled
sometimes- so many sometimes

no wind on never fall flowers, but turn flat
and press down yesterday’s gray concrete
bought old sold older worthless oldest

windless without reason why pick up
pluck up a weed and dream it something
some wonderful some-any-thing new

hopes choke on dead dandelion parachute cords
tethered to hot black tar gone gray called concrete
set -not reset- since the Great Depression.