Trees are heavy with leaves, sumac
beginning to blossom, milkweed
lifting new balls of blooms.
Sweat soaks my clothes. I struggle
to breathe. In one day the princess tree
starts its dying, huge heart-shaped leaves
browned and collapsed. Its long lineage
goes back to China. Here it’s another
fast-growing invasive spreading winged seeds.
We’re swept-up leavings from other
landscapes—close-grown cornfields, cool hills.
A chipmunk noses the back of my ankle,
a quick, cold touch. I guess it’s curious.
I’m calmed by the weather’s torpor.
A slug pushes itself over the sidewalk,
searches for food with its rough tongue,
slides its soft body forward,
its gift a glistening line of slime.