GINKGO MAGAZINE

Eye of the Texas Whiptail | Josh Ellenbogen

frond or foe?

by: Avery Atkins

the sun comes up over the earth,

enrobes the globe with laughter.

this quiet life and all it’s worth,

no lullaby could ever capture.

bumblebees burrow between beads of honey,

awaiting the rising-flood floral-filled field.

meadowlight tinged just the slightest touch sunny;

natural life’s vast beauty revealed.

echoes of birdsong in shadow,

crisp crunches of ground now diffuse.

a strange sense approaching: frond or foe?

life or death now—which will he choose?

the two-legged creature sparks fire.

his chaos, destruction, brings pain.

chop down each tree, unroot each briar;

to burn down the world is his aim.

snaring small beasts into mesh— 

bloodied boots stomp toward their meal.

critter corpses turned to sizzled flesh

bone-deep bullet holes that won’t heal.

flames overtake long-lived wood,

lick branches the birds had once tread,

though he once had the chance to be good,

he won’t stop now until we’re all dead. 

Avery Atkins is a Pennsylvanian poet with a lifelong habit of getting emotionally wrecked by the passage of time—yet, she keeps writing about it. A senior Creative Writing and Advertising and Public Relations major at Susquehanna University, she dreams of reconnecting with nature in the English countryside after graduating in May 2025. Avery is the proud mother of an ivy plant and enjoys experimenting with the sounds and rhythms of words while appreciating life’s subtle, often unnoticed details. Her work has been featured in The Sanctuary Magazine and Honeysickle Moon Editions.