she opened her flowers
and colored the air
her medicine, a beautiful plague
when nuclear spores took flight
their lungs burst into light, glowing
fire and flame of a million match heads
starving gardens grew in their chests
roots planted deep in flesh, feasting
on blood and irreverence
that was the year men drowned inside themselves
the great falling away
the end of wind
that was the year they came to know
the fragility of balance, safety, and respect
when the old melted, and the seams of the frail tore in two
that was the great call, the repossession of air
when they all came to know themselves
as trinkets of the earth
and before her flowers closed again
her sprawling soil was littered
with waste
