Zucchini

for months, I watched as the vine wrapped itself around
pieces of dead tree and suffocated my plants
and wondered why I had wanted it there, why I

had allowed something so invasive to take root
among my violas and columbines, its leaves
so broad they took all daylight away, killing my

grass struggling to grow through hastily-thrown piles of
mulch, then one day, I went out and checked under the
leaves and saw the giant zucchini boner, I

couldn?t believe my eyes, sprouted overnight and
more than one, little ones, bigger ones, saluting
me like an army of green men built just for my

palm, and only the most important parts, no grasping
clutching hands, no irritating, whining voices
no embarrassing morning-afters, really, I

wonder, fingers prying loose the gigantic spears
feeling their hollow, cool weight with trembling fingers
anticipation, how much zucchini will my

mother need for cooking, how many zucchini
can one person actually eat?

— Holly Day