On Nicolette’s Cacti

Cacti, shivering in the heat,
look out over the city,
feel sorely misplaced,
like cabbage on a curb.

They are of the old world,
of thick skin, and up close,
their tenderness is ageless.

But in the new world,
the city thrusts upward
and assumes authority.
And the cacti’s impotent
spines observe in despair.