One Poem by William Doreski

The Dreams Everyone Should Learn from Plants

Along the sandy roadside,
bunchberry flaunts four petals.
I walk here daily to encourage
my heart to interact with the world.
Every spring, wildflowers launch
their little sermons, dedicated
to keep the planet rolling.

But every year, fewer examples
of fewer species apply themselves
to the task of cheering the drab
places to which I’m committed.
No more trout lily, clintonia,
lady slipper, anemone, wild
ginger or trailing arbutus.

All thrived along this stretch
of town road until their roots
failed to go dormant in faded
winters that didn’t freeze the soil.
I realize that I also have failed
to go dormant and dream the dreams
everyone should learn from plants.

Dreams of rich, mingled textures
and sparks everyone can see.
Dreams of ripening decay.
Dreams of elongated fruiting
to assure the species continues.
Dreams of fauna and flora
blossoming in lust and harmony.

William Doreski lives in Peterborough, New Hampshire. He has taught at several colleges and universities. His most recent book of poetry is Dogs Don’t Care (2022). His essays, poetry, fiction, and reviews have appeared in various journals.