Death, in the orderly procession
of seasons, cloaked as bulbs, roots
stems. leaves, blooms—hides from its gardeners.
Daffodils trumpet gold; although quite
deadly from bulb to blossom,
they “flutter…in the breeze” says Wordsworth.
Bleeding hearts, rose or pink, pendant from
arching stems, hide (veiled by shade)
their toxic tendencies—coy– disguised.
Foxglove, spikes of pink or cream elfin
hats, spotted or not, disrupts
heartbeats– kills, yet can help doctors save.
Nicotiana, fragrant, showy
garden flower tobacco–
poisonous–no need to smoke.
Autumn crocus, brilliant purple cups,
fields-full are stunning– lethal
to heart and brain, they’re toxic, they kill.
Deer browsing nearby know what poisons,
when to taste, when not.
Spellbound, unknowing, we plant it all.
Marguerite Beck-Rex ©2013