Rotting

This was based on work by Mark Doty. i don't think my line indents will work as well on this, but i'll try.

Rotting

I was early today and sat on cold concrete
watching men, brown with dirt and too much sun,
assemble the skeleton of a new building.

I’ve watched it every week, rise and grow
the way a bird builds a nest
or ants create their colony.

I sit and eat a sandwich that is soggy
from sitting in a cooler for too long.
Hours, maybe days.

I wonder and hope that all the workers are faithful.
That they’re strong. That booze, drugs, or a competitor’s
money won’t dissuade them from their job.

Because if just one man decides
he won’t give the 100%, the entire building
will fall apart from the inside. Cracked foundations

My academic brain soaks this in and I watch
the men pour more concrete while students
drop cigarette butts at their feet.

The trees have begun their rebirth.
Flowers from magnolias bloom then die.
Petal by petal their beauty decomposes.

Even in spring I see death.
The red petals of tulips scream at me for help.
Why can’t they be white, yellow, pink?

Have aphids attacked roses yet?
Have they been destroyed?
Rotting from the inside?