Ivory Vines

A new year of ivory vines

clings to the fence posts,

digs sticky roots

to the old red paint peeled off wood,

growing from the shade of bigger leaves

into the sunlight of early summer days.

 

The accuracy in words

they don’t speak, when my heart regrets

the disappointment, passes in

through an open door,

the green honesty pierced through a wall

like a dip into calm oceans.

 

The cycle of quiet forests

healing my breaths

continues until my last.