wind tosses reddening sumac, stirs the pale green
milkweed pods — fat, & pointed at both ends
like fish bladders, like grapefruit pulp, but large
as giants’ thumbs & stubbled, like scrotums
vesicles of ripening germ — as days pass they darken
dry, & split open, spill & spread their bounty
porcelain-white fluff, each tuft bound to a small
brown seed that wind, or barring wind, bumptious I
scatter across my yard to sprout in spring
leaf in summer, proffer monarchs a daily spread
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