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| Chrys Salt |
Lockdown
Celandine
I’ve seen you many times
but not like this
dressed up in shine,
I’ve never stopped to say
hello,
never spoke. I know
you come in every greening
spring
with all your folk
seen in the swift periphery
of passing by;
I didn’t see
your heart shaped leaf
gloss,
specificity,
your sunbright single petal
star,
radiant yellow yellowness
fine arcing neck
that tips your merry head
agley.
.
Today I stopped to look at
you,
beyond the hurly burly
time,
fur-tufted stamens in your
candid eye.
Ground Elder.
You are this garden's
lifetime now.
Lush leaves conceal
your villainy,
our planting of no
consequence.
We would nurture if
we could
but you outweigh our
care,
outnumber us
march down new
planting,
suffocate.
We come with fork and
hoe
our killer sprays,
our paltry weaponry,
but you, more cunning
than we know;
hide out in bunkers
underground
and armies grow.
We would kill you
with cunning spite,
but one stray snip of
your infection
spawns insidious
embroidery.
Poppies, self seeded
shout defiance
in your face
but you sneak in,
usurp their space.
You walk through language,
indecipherable;
You walk through
walls, omnipotent.
Go forth your virus
says and multiply.
