April Flowers: A Poem of the (Sad) Season
April Flowers — 2012, by Suzan Bryher Dill
(published by permission)
The yellow truck is coming around,
putting its poisons into the ground.
The man who drives it is dressed to kill –
goggles, gloves, boots, and a hat with a bill.
He injects a liquid that milky white
next to the plants, to stop any blight.
The law says a paper must tell of the mix,
but the one he provides dates 2006.
It states to wear protective gear
when such a chemical is near,
but mentions too, for us to hear:
“protects” the plants for one whole year.
Aiming for beetles and bugs that bore,
the liquid strikes a higher score.
What’s left in the soil is a lethal potion,
some of which finds its way to the ocean.
It seeps to the creek which runs to the marsh,
and to all that lives there is very harsh;
then into the river, the fish, and the sea,
but another story gives worry to me.
Next to my house the plants start to blossom;
bees and birds arrive, perfectly awesome!
Spring, it seems, is in full swing,
as back to nest and hive they wing.
But something happens as they fly –
they can’t find home, as hard as they try.
Some chemistry from what they drank and ate
altered their systems and changed their fate.
We need beware, as we share this earth
with all the lives designed for birth.
Beware of toxins, man-made for death.
Don’t smell the flowers and risk your breath.