One of my old poems . . .
Hybrid Consequences
by Carly Svamvour - May, 1999
Is it wild
flowersOr just
flowersGone wild?
The latter, those wayward blooms
Making a home on our side of the fence.
I"ve known people
Like that.
There are people whose roots never change.
Their terrain
Ever constant.
Then comes the day they are blown by
Careless winds.
They have no choice but to
Take root in
Foreign Lands.
Some allow themselves to become
What you might call
Culvtivated.
Some respond by chucking back phrases
Ending with words like
And the horse you rode in on.
These are the Hybrid Consequences
Blowing in the breeze,
Mingling with the
seeds of Others.
They refuse to conform to either side's demands.
They take root wherever the
Careless Wind
May deign to set them down.
They are the true
Wild
flowers.
They are the
Truly
Cultivated.