“Pre Cancer”

by Robin Keehn

My grandfather kept a tank of DDT

in his garage

in Wilmington, California,

even after the silent spring 

and all those dead birds

falling from the sky,

even after soft shells

crumbled under brown pelicans 

nesting for eons 

on the cliffs of Palos Verdes,

crumbled under bald eagles

nesting before America

on Catalina Island.

He unveiled the tank to me 

one day in 1972 when 

I asked about his orchids,

their amazing faces

mouths wide open 

unable to tell me

the secret to their success.

He rationed it out,

he said:

to his orchids

to his fruit trees

to his hydrangeas 

standing guard by 

the front door

flawless lavender

and white,

whispering nonsense, 

he said.

Robin Keehn lives in Encinitas, California.  She teaches literature and writing at Cal State University, San Marcos.  She holds a Ph.D. in English and American literature from the University of California, San Diego.