A Spring borne daffodil springs forth

Between a crack of cement

Fighting for life amid the souls of shoes

Trampling the life underfoot.



Most of those soles did not care

To look down amid the dirt and grime

To look at the flower itself

And not what it meant to everyone else ...



Except for that one gardener

Who tore the bent and broken stem

From out of the depths of that cold, rocky hell

Breaking it away from the reaches of that stubborn city.



She brought it into the shelter of her home

Replanting it with a fresh supply of dirt and water

Sitting it by the window, its life is full of sun

Even though it sits alone in that pot



Like the city of Las Vegas.