Summer holiday

in one summer how many generations of aphids

chicory blueing the roadside where a drive-in used to be

and the spindly trees that stand in for angels

their green blades for carving up the sun

so much more than we know grows in a summer

sporangia like eyestalks seedpods like space ships

and the mountaintop bleeds orange where coal was stripped out

but we climb with our mouths open

salsify achenes in a blowball one by one wobble and break free

a wild grape tendril proffers an ampersand