Thirty years:

When you realize you cannot kill me without hurting yourself,

will you still want to poison your soil

to keep your nature, true Finn?

Do my dark stalks scare you?

Do I seem too foreign?

Am I not pink enough,

white enough,

or am I too purple?

How do I earn a place along the poor man’s rose,

next to the grass by the highway?

Haven’t I made you beautiful, too

Haven’t I fed your birds and bees too,

Haven’t I survived the freeze too,

Thirty years,

alongside you?