Sanguinaria canadensis (Bloodroot)
Brain-veined, cabbaged
around a single bud, in barest canopy
your one, winged leaf unfurls
to a lemon crown of anthers, to ghost-white petals’ quick
thinning to translucence, to capsule
unzipping its pod of pursed seeds nut-brown, glossy
as tiger eye, elaiosomes’ umbilical froth
coiling each globed bead—the dormant future figured
as apple, and worm, though your whole
is generative: even these filmy members
winnow ants—copper baubles spider-wired
to filigree—feed their young, leaving the seed to sprout
from nest debris. There are those who thrive
in margins, who survive the wild
shrinking: coyote, raccoon, dandelion; fire ants
overrunning forest and field, who take the bait but
destroy the seed. Outsiders, how can we help
but hunger? Bloodroot, you unscroll
to the staggered world of fence posts
no new flowers. Your given name a study in slicing
a clotted root to bleed, this world so beautiful
we could eat you whole: Blood Root,
Red Root, Tetterwort, Sweet Slumber—nest
I call you by, scouting your woods;
whether as winnow- or fire- I come
to you, what begins each spring
one more vanishing.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
This poem was written for A Literary Field Guide to Southern Appalachia, a hybrid literary and natural history anthology edited by Rose McClarney, Laura-Gray Street, and L. L. Gaddy, published by The University of Georgia Press in 2019. The editors’ species description in the book notes:
To walk Southern Appalachian woods in early March and find the first bloodroot flower—broad, pristine white petals arrayed around yolk-yellow stamens—is to know spring has begun. These ephemeral flowers disappear within days, however, and seedpods form: long capsules with pursed tips where seeds ripen. The seeds have large elaiosomes or oil-bodies that provide food for ants, which in turn disperse the seeds of the plant.
While native ants play an important role in the bloodroot’s survival, the invasive red fire ant, which is rapidly spreading throughout southern Appalachia, typically destroys the seed as it feeds. The bloodroot is also rarely found in disturbed landscapes. The loss of habitat to development and invasive species, as well as collection for the medicinal trade, has resulted in significant population decline in much of its wide range. However, as many bloodroot populations occur on public lands and so enjoy incidental protection, the species is not considered endangered as of this writing.
Sandra Meek is the author of six books of poems, most recently Still (Persea Books, 2020), named a “New & Noteworthy Poetry Book” by The New York Times Book Review. Read more.
“Sanguinaria canadensis (Bloodroot)” was previously published in Still, Persea Books, 2020.