From Australia the flowers
Are actually a velvety black
With yellow-green interiors
It’s like some burnt-out taper
Leftover from ancient Lemuria
The leaves are large and ominous
And soon consumed the trellis
I could have climbed like Jack
To some antediluvian Bolivia
In the giant clouds for lack
Of anything better some days
If I wasn’t forever hacking it back
Before it devours the iris and zinnia
And leaves the light not a crack
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