I am the vine
one long branch reaching along
My foliage is heavy and holds me down
New buds will inevitably give fuel to flower
-And if rains are mild, fruit...
I can only grow in the vicinity I was planted
I am not unique, raised a clone in some outskirts nursery
Planted in the loam above where a river ran centuries ago
In this soil on this meager fertile half acre
-From root to shoot the only instinct is growth...
Everyday expanding my ambitious tendrils outward
Searching like antenna for the next branch or fence for support
Over the shrubs and into the hardwoods obsessed
Covering it all just in time to flower
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário