NewPoetry

Meaghan Strimas

Seriously, who doesn’t want another poem

about the fern fronds who wave farewell,

(weeping, perhaps?) as some backpacking

sap leaves the forest for the highway.

I like nature, too. I like the birds who

shit-bomb my balcony, and I like the parks

we’ve “saved.” Good thing, for us, this greenery

exists. Yes, we do make room for the squirrels

and the chipmunks. It’s a little more delicate

with those skunks and raccoons. Still, we’re good

to leave the nests where they’ve been built.

We’ve a healthy respect for avian architecture.

Plus, it’s a real effort to climb that high.

I know a guy who claims he’s going to live

off the bounty he’s growing in his yard.

You should see the two plum tomatoes that hang

like sagging nuts from his leggy vines.

Last count–six whole peas. But why romanticize?