NOT RIGHT NOW, BUT...

I dream of the weed
Who busts through the pavement
The rust that engulfs the street sign
The wind, salt and water that break down  
Tall buildings in a party town
I want it all to happen fast
Like bears that quadrupled in number
In the absence of a crowd
But I have faith in the stubborn
Moving mountain of time,
That the right thing will emerge
Even if it’s on a scale that is beyond us
And we dissolve entirely-
A blip that failed
No adaptation
Just the final and soft slip
Of a half-hearted sigh