The following plants and poems emerged after the recent rains on Tongva territory in the LA Basin and surrounding hills.

The format and tone has shifted a bit in my writing of these since being pointed to James Thomas Stevens’ plant poems in “Combing the Snakes From His Hair” a couple weeks ago, a section wryly titled “A Half-Breed’s Guide to the Use of Native Plants” where he wrote poems inspired by the plants of the Midwest prairie to which he had been displaced.

Many Osages, including my family, were displaced in the 1900s to Tongva lands, with waves during the 20s related to the “Reign of Terror” and availability of money from oil leases, and in the 1950s during the federal relocation program. I find the mirror correspondence fascinating, of coming across Stevens’ plant poems where we writes on my ancestral Osage territory (or nearby) and how for the past year I have been moved to write similar poems on these unceeded lands of diaspora to so many.

These are meant to be read as a communication from the plant to the reader. Which one resonates with you this season?

1) Dandelion:
Jagged-toothed with
a scatter of yellow searchlights
they see your feared desire

Light constellations in the wind
hear hope others see as nuisance

Remember the daring of children
long taproot earthing
to stomach the risk

2) Mugwort:
Soft, tender edges
see your shadow from the moon
how you know what to refuse

Memory,
shards of story cutting the future
shaped by the body

A balm for the violation
slough off the excess, remember
there was no before without pain

3) Mustard:
Which living things ask
if they are allowed to exist

You are here so, feed
eat what grows abundant
waving yellow, alive

I see you resist what is given
a field of tenderness
bright bitter laughter

Remember weeds need no excuses