Poem-a-Day

^{for Comptonia peregrina}

Eniqsimus.
The People call you,
literally, “ant tree.”
Sokoki Abenaki peoples say
aliksmozi.
 
So willing, and tough.
Fragrant, you fill the
summer air with green aroma,
spicy and sweet.
Unlike any other,
diminutive and useful,
rooted down in roadside soils,
you thrive.
Hardship a familiar friend.
Still here, like us.
Live, strive.
Still here.
 
Your scent, the oils you carry will
drive off the troublesome
ones who bite and bother.
 
Look closer, and consider the
spindly twisted stems, soft brown.
The leaves, darkened with sun touch,
fingers splayed and graceful in the
breeze that sways and spirals,
lifts that perfume to carry and
announce your presence.
 
Settlers called you sweet fern though
not a fern at all, just frond-like leaves,
alternate, oblong and elliptical.
They watched us make the tea,
burn the leaf, wrap the poultice.
These are holy things;
to remember, still, in these days when
the future feels so short and restless.