And could it be? Not all is lost. Something is growing. I thought of this poem today as I watched a bug slowly chomp his way through a sugar snap pea...
ONLY ONE OF MY DEATHS
Because it seems the only way to save the roses
is to pluck the Japanese beetles out of
their convoluted paradise
and kill them, I think for a moment,
instead of crushing them in the driveway,
of impaling them on the thorns.
Perhaps they'd prefer that.
Dean Young
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