Greetings, dear Toads. Welcome to the third day of our Poems in April challenge.
Some weeks ago, people were absolutely delighted about the freakishly warm weather dancing around the Northeast region of the US. I won’t lie—I, too, smiled at the feeling of spring in the middle of winter. But after speaking to a few friends who grow fruit trees, my smiles vanished. They are worried about the effects the unseasonably warm weather will have on their trees.
I’ve been thinking about the exchange quite a bit, wondering what the barren plants might be feeling, who would be on the receiving end of their sense of loss and outrage, what they might say if they could speak to us…
So, for today’s challenge, I invite you to write a new poem from the point of view of a grieving plant whose sprouts were just killed as a result of climate change.
we push the sap through
spring’s false call provokes budding
only death awaits