Lanternflies

. . . wash up on concrete sidewalk shores,
Skitter-flap and expire. Ta-ta to them,
But others flit into verdant havens
To go about their promiscuous business.
Any plant may give the lanternfly succor
As it roves and seeks its favorite host,
Tree-of-heaven, wastelot shade,
Also alien. Just let them feed there?
Sure, if not for other species
Blighted by buggy voracity:
Maples, grapes, black walnuts, figs,
Willows, birches, peaches, plums,
Sycamores, mulberries, lilacs, apples--
A pamphagous lust akin to humans',
Though not as egregious as our greeds.
Dear native and fruitful immigrant trees
Already stressed by climatic swings,
Drought and deluge alternating,
I'll do my pathetic, impotent part.
So if I pause crossing a busy roadway,
Take aim at a critter with my foot,
Drivers, forgive me, and join the crusade!
Smush the invaders, if you can.