So—even with a bag of tools eager for the maiming of weeds,
it’s a sore trial. Today we have naming of weeds.
Buddleia chancing on the mortar, dancing on a ledge.
Are butterflies complicit in the gaming of weeds?
When the shrub (not a bramble) ignited and spoke,
Moses was arrested by a flaming of weeds.
HORSETAIL: DELINQUENT SCORNS DINO-DEATH!
Read it like litmus: the living ground, the reclaiming of weeds.
Rose bay willow herb—once under restraints—
grows tasteful. Continue the taming of weeds.
Forget the damned glyphosate! Free the Field Vetch!
Cranesbill! Prunella!! End the Shaming of Weeds!
Guilty as hell! Nettled by nettles? Cleaved
by cleavers? Your fault, Gloveless. Avoid the framing of weeds.
A voice from left field: Don’t make moral judgements on plants,
Michele. True counsel. So— I ceased the blaming of weeds.
MICHELE WAERING has an MLitt in Creative Writing from The University of Glasgow. Her poems have been published in From Glasgow to Saturn; A Thousand Cranes: Scottish Poets for Japan; From Quill to Quark; Envoi and The Ghazal Page. She lives in Renfrewshire, Scotland.