Poem: Small deaths

“Eventually the problem should fix itself, just sayin…”

- Facebook comment posted on a CTV Vancouver article titled “2020 is likely to be B.C.'s deadliest year for toxic drug overdoses”

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Death is an ant under your shoe,
the unwatered spider plant,
a grain of fentanyl
thinner than a needle
of Douglas fir.

*

I search the rainforest 
for names of the dead.
Unlike the newspaper,
there are no statistics here,
only red alder, sword fern.

*

Vancouver grew so sick
of rain it built a coffee shop
on every corner.

How many downpours
until we upend earth
for solutions?

How many deaths?

*

I find an obituary
etched into the skin
of an arbutus.
Alan enjoyed great food,
especially prosciutto.

Overhead, a barred owl
flies.