Achene with Wings

Wood plant fall green

It’s called the wingnut, the helicopter,
the whirligig, that little samara
autorotating down for the ground

as one-seeded dried fruit
that spins from the tree
to be dispersed by wind.

It made it past dormancy
for release to fall to germinate
to environmental whims

taking a hold of all of us.



Poem by Lynne Goldsmith

Lynne is an award-winning author of poetry and children’s books. Her poetry can recently be found in E-The Environmental Magazine, Interalia Magazine, and The Ekphrastic Review.