things grow
beyond your repair. your
scissors
your axe,
the ground cover
has taken over.
bushes that may be trees
have risen
from the ground and bend
against the fence.
ivy
grips the brick,
the slab
that has turned green
by nature.
your path has narrowed
to the gate.
a home has been made
for the outcast,
whatever
snake needs a cool
unfettered place
to coil and rest
before striking.
Saturday, June 11, 2016
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