Titans

Havoc reeked upon recessive undergrowth
The shrubs resurface after the rain
They have no claim to glacial heritage
Pruned, they resemble not themselves
Treated by the dirt’s seminal avarice
They climb the wall to escape the sun
Stretching to become from stolid mortar
They are dried and unrooted and dying
Beneath they stake a claim to geoderm
Humbled by their inability to crush
The dream to twist, to shake the sun
Remaining beneath, they are pruned again.