Plants at Work
Sunflowers bob on a raft near Chernobyl,
roots leaching atoms humming with intent
to harm, but diffusing like sugar in the slow
surge of some big flower’s stalk,
its face tilting to follow the sun’s arc,
working much harder than sunflowers I planted
in the backyard one summer, six lanky plants
framed by the kitchen window and mysteriously
snapped at the waist one day, my stepson
sulking, our weather toxic.
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