If I had space, I’d plant a dogwood tree
where lemons fail to grow, outside my place.
Its leaves and blooms would please abundantly,
if I had space.

But there’s no room for new roots to embrace,
and adding shade would block good light from me.
There’s green already everywhere I face.

I’ll exercise restrained sagacity,
appreciate some neighbors as I pace
a block nearby where thrives what here might be,
if I had space.