The Orange Angels

The monarchs did not
come to my garden this year;
did not flutter onto
the shrubs I planted
just for them;
did not come to gather,
in my backyard, origami
wings closed as in prayer.
 
The pink rose, the tiger lily,  
the bodacious hydrangea
spread their petals
to welcome them but still
the monarchs did not come.
 
I heard that the Mexican forests
where they used to
rest in winter are gone.
I heard that the milkweed
that sustained them
on their journey
across the Midwest
has been mowed down
for corn fields and subdivisions.
 
I heard that they are coming back.
I heard that they are never coming back.
I heard that they are falling from
the sky, a hail of exhausted angels.
​
​**
Published in Anthology, The Wildest Peal, Moon Pie Press, 2015.
Published in the Jewish Women's Literary Annual, 2014, Volume 10.