The flowers had been planted
For a reason, after all.
DESECRATION III
And I dug holes for the hydrangeas
Until I struck the buried asphalt pavement
That must have been here back when
This place really mattered.
And I drove my pick into it
Sparks flying back at me
Until it yielded beneath us.
Will someone find it again someday?
Will they know why
We marked it with a monument?
Will they know why
We found and destroyed it
Again and again?