Through nights of slanting rain Marchers are planting pain; Gardeners in boots Plant tender seeds of mines Where the dimmed flashlight shines, Nursing the wire-vines, Hiding the roots.
Boys in green raincoats scamper Where grass will soon be damper When ripeness murders. How fast the seeds grow high! Blossoming, towards the sky Pain's gaudy petals fly, White with red borders.
Soldiers laying landmines in the rain are described as if they were gardeners at work. They wear boots, they plant "tender seeds," they "nurse" wire-vines and hide the roots. The comparison is calm and almost cozy, which is exactly what makes it unsettling: the language of growing things is used for the business of killing.
The second stanza pushes the idea further. The "boys in green raincoats" are young, and the word "scamper" makes them sound like children at play. But the ground they cross will soon be wetter in a darker way, "when ripeness murders." The title borrows the idea that being ready is everything, and here ripeness means the moment a mine goes off. The final image of "gaudy petals" flying skyward, "white with red borders," reads like an explosion blooming like a flower, perhaps with blood at its edges.
The speaker never states an opinion outright. The mood comes from the cool, tidy tone set against the horror it describes.