My Cart 


Nancy Dymond


the guy at the nursery said
we're bringing it home on our shoes

it's the heat, the humidity
like a tropical jungle

the roots are groping tentacles
like wrapped wire

it's pretty to look at
elongated, deep green
but it's scary

like science fiction stuff
killing everything else around

you don't want to use poison
you have to cut it at the root

it's going to be interesting
to see it die

(i think we're going to need some professional help.)

From Sleep Barn (Stockport Flats, 2015).
Used here with the author's permission.




Nancy Dymond was born in Pennsylvania, near Lake Erie. Her early years were spent moving back and forth between Pennsylvania and New Jersey. Nancy's poetry, like her life, covers a wide range of themes and styles. These days, she feels very settled surrounded by the natural beauty of the Pocono Mountains, where she lives with her husband.


Post New Comment:
Very nice. Paradea mentioned Kudzu. A few years ago I edited a book entlted Killer Kudzu by my pal, Julius Thompson.
Posted 10/25/2023 08:08 PM
. . . mind you, specialists can be invasive . . .
Posted 06/22/2016 05:04 AM
True, here in the South, about 'kudzu', too!!
Posted 06/21/2016 09:16 AM
Very nice Nancy. Your poem reminds me of the so-called "choker-vine" common in central Illinois. It simply takes over and is so hard to distinguish from the plants one wants to keep. Thank you.
Posted 06/21/2016 08:17 AM
You have just described my aunt's backyard garden... :-)
Posted 06/21/2016 07:28 AM
This so captures a 'magic' in the art form of unique observation+imagination! Thanks, Nancy.
Posted 06/21/2016 06:44 AM
Ross Kightly:
Ah, how often we feel we need professional help! Wonderfully understated and unsettling poem - thank you all.
Posted 06/21/2016 03:20 AM

Contents of this web site and all original text and images therein are copyright © by Your Daily Poem. All rights reserved.
As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. Purchasing books through any poet's Amazon links helps to support Your Daily Poem.
The material on this site may not be copied, reproduced, downloaded, distributed, transmitted, stored, altered, adapted,
or otherwise used in any way without the express written permission of the owner.