Big news today
early humans made beds
out of wild-quince leaves
to keep the mosquitos away.
This is exciting to everyone
except indigenous people
who have grown weary of telling us
that nature is dying
to communicate.
It’s obvious
when you think about it
what is a peony
if not a pom-pom
a garden’s irrepressible
cheerleading squad
a tornado
the breeze
fed up with being ignored
the sun
an effort at dialogue
a one-way blister
and the trees
patient
stoic
long-suffering.
I walk the cold park
trying to lure conversation
from the rigid earth
my face has that look
the new girl
hoping someone will pick her
as their friend.
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