pothole garden

Flower Pressed Boy

He keeps a magazine underneath his mattress.
It’s filled with poems and stories, some he adores,
Some he hates.
In between page 56 and 57, he keeps pressed
Gardenias and pretty leaves.
He likes to give them to people he just met walking on a crosswalk,
Waiting in a waiting room.
When he feels the air is stagnant,
He pulls out one of his flattened plants
And gives it to the person next to him.
He holds it out in front of them until take it,
Offering no explanation. 

In his eyes, dancing around the pupils,
–Small in the bright light of silent buses,
Jerking up with each pothole it crosses–
Are gardens of pressed flowers
Flat leaves
The breeze swaying them side to side.
Everyone who meets this flower pressed boy
Look into his flower pressed eyes
And they take his pressed down flowers
Keeping them in their flower pressed hearts.


the pothole gardener

we loved watching this fascinating short documentary that takes a look at the reactions of the public to some pothole gardens that have been popping up around east london. watch as steve wheen transforms urban annoyances into tiny, unexpected gardens…


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