Spring Onions

[ioan]

A wild spring onion first appeared
last Tuesday in my lawn.
I cranked up my weed-whacker.
With one whack it was gone.

With no small satisfaction,
I then surveyed the yard.
To get it so immaculate,
I'd worked both long and hard.

The next day it was back again,
that wild and wispy weed.
I admired its persistence
and reluctance to concede.

But I refused to be outdone
by a pesky bulb with shoots.
I bent down and I yanked it out
with care to get its roots.

Before I could dispose of it,
the weed had grown right back.
That's it, I said, I've had enough.
I went on the attack.

I dug a hole where it had been,
two feet deep, three wide.
Then, I doused the dirt and grounds
with a potent herbicide.

It sprang up in another spot
so I got out the tiller.
I chased it all around the yard,
a serial weed-killer.

In the end I lost the fight.
Defeat was absolute.
The lawn that once was manicured
looked like war-torn Beirut.

I realized then I couldn't win.
No use to rant and rave
and when I die, I'll fertilize
spring onions on my grave.

by Jack Dillard

[GuitarPhotog]

Yeah, I had onions in my yard one place we lived.
We tried everything but they still came back.
We moved away.
The current owners probably still have onions

<Chas>