For Mo Mo, in Indonesia.
A flower
In a city I have never seen
Is no less a flower
Than those in my own backyard
Are no less flowers
Than the finest roses in the most prestigious of gardens grown
Each has come from a seed the same
Whether it fell rough to the Earth or was gently placed
Just as each climbs tall as they might
Towards the same shining sun
May they be seen and loved
Knowing that
Though there are those which will fall beneath wheels and feet
Each has a place and a purpose
Objects, and the Distance Between Them 