The wisteria grows slowly
on vines marrying fences
that rust with time.
Two hearts growing roots
as leaves wither & fall.
Hidden in backwoods
away from all the calls,
the human forms
that sting like shadows
and linger like adder venom.
I have a friend named Wisteria.
she grows on a stone fence and soothes his iron tension.
She spreads her vines thru the rooms of his house
and blesses his children with new leaves.
She lays her hands upon his walls
and spreads her nourishing vines thru every room
He is grateful for the ways of her vines upon his temples
and wonders if the wisteria holds up the stone fence.
~ 1995