I turn your pond a shade of green, a creeping film that spreads unseen.

Sleeping Beauty pricked her finger, now I grow and linger. Upwards the tower I go, blossoming and blooming until a hundred years later, there comes her beau.

A sticky tar sap. Needled skirt up to cap. Boarded in bulk. Shape hung: travels map.

It’s black when you buy it, red when you use it, and white when you throw it away. What is it?

first four are found in grains, all across the world, though not ones you eat, but those that wash ashore. last three are a container, six sides to be exact. I am what UPS specializes in, when a flat envelope will not do.