An Accountant

He wrestled with white ledgers

tight rows of numbers and was able 

to calculate the secret of ciphers.

Who else would appreciate

the eloquence of one?

This fat place maker known as zero?

Why mystics marvelled at the holy seven?

While he slept his dreams multiplied.

Suddenly long division subtracted an

unknown quantity yet sums still added up.

Where had those equations wandered? 

Trees of Heaven

Those are tough 

growing in slums.

Without need of rich soil

or pruning, they rise

in abandoned lots.

Resilient, they survive 

rubbish, rodents

noxious chemicals.

Not easily cut down,

they stand against

gaunt tenements.

Climbing skyward,

delicate palm leaves

flourish flowering pods.

Trees of Heaven give

children glimpses of bright

emerald each morning.

Stars play peek-a-boo

between their branches

through long nights.

Who says only the rich 

deserve a taste of paradise?