how the shoot of the vine
always turns lefty-loosey
attaching to the trellis
in its upward climb
and patiently resists
ignorant efforts
to fasten it with ties
and force it clockwise
it just smiles at me
as if I didn’t know
following the path
the sun takes through
the days the stars
and moon the nights
wasn't the only way to go
out of this world
No comments:
Post a Comment