i. North America
Long spikes of yellow-gold flowers
rise to the sky
in autumn’s cool,
a harbor for insects,
a meal for pollinators,
host plant to moth caterpillars
ruby tiger,
wavy-lined emerald,
white-dotted groundling.
Pollen too heavy to be wind-carried,
mistakenly blamed
for hay fever
and pulled out.
Labeled a weed
as if humans can make a ruling
against your fecundity,
against your survival.
Solidago canadensis,
ripped apart, sprayed with herbicides,
exiled from your native home.
All that depend on you
are broken from the chain,
toppling down.
ii. Europe
Exported across oceans and sky
long, thin seeds settle into new soil
under watchful eyes awaiting a rare beauty
–a nuisance in your old country.
Blending into rolling hills,
escaping gardens and delighting drivers,
autumn roadsides lined with yellow.
Bees and butterflies adore you,
drinking deep before winter’s sleep.
On this continent you are aggressive,
pushing out native species, supplanting
food sources for butterflies and moths.
Solidago canadensis
—refugee and invader.
—
V. Bray has been a writer since childhood and still has a box filled with her first “books,” usually illustrated with markers and bound with yarn. She writes in many genres, from speculative and historical fiction to poetry. Her work has been published in About Place Journal, Halfway Down the Stairs, Multiplicity Magazine, and The Writer. Learn more at authorvbray.com.
