The deep green leaves invite you
To come and join their play
They glint and becon in the sun
Inticing you to stay.
A twill of vine curls 'round your wrist
and tightens in a knot
It slowly pulls you closer where
You catch the scent of rot.
But calming are the deep green leaves
And follow them you will
Step by step you inch forwards
Pulled in closer still.
A crowd of leaves tickle your face
You make a muffled sound
And suddenly you realize
Your arms and legs are bound.
An entourage of deep green leaves
Is all that you can see
You close your eyes and smell the rot:
Past victims of ivy.
Monday, February 4, 2008
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