A WINTER QUESTION
Must the burdock’s flower grow this prickly
To preen above its dock leaves that shelter
Leeches, lady bugs, and meandering lizards?
Some time soon, at season’s turn, we might
Find that question useful. Not now. Not when
Even the sharp sparkles of a winter sun can't
Lend it poise: it has a thin but graceful shadow
Shorn of its leaves that could have been
A junco’s perch, a bug’s slalom zigzag course,
A gecko’s undulant porch, a look-out point
For the titmouse gone gaga over downy snow.
Some time soon, the burdock’s prickly flower
Will, with its spring nectar, find its butterfly.
Will anyone dare call it ugly and squat then?
---ALBERT B. CASUGA
The Given Line Triggering the Poem: