by Kevin T McEneaney

I regret to report today’s problem:

large party of asparagus beetles

whooping it up, consuming all green fronds,

so long stalk leaves look like gray skeletons

waving fond farewell to passing rain clouds,

who are whimsical, uncaring phantoms,

according to reports by my spy plants

who secretly record all of Nature

when I am not mating plants to enhance

the biological future of mankind.

As a child I loved all wingèd insects

because I wanted to fly high like them,

undergo magic metamorphosis,

which I have now achieved in old age…  

Kevin T McEneaney

Author of The Enclosed Garden and Longing
Close Menu