Luffa Vines


After John Ashbery’s “Some Trees”


These are amazing: so many vines

creeping crawling twining

impervious to the clime, as if

they’ve outfoxed the clouds, the sun—

even the soft pouring of winter sleet,

as if to declare: I am a tellurian yet

untethered! with their slow sprawl up

in the terrace, defying height, defying earth.


These vines tell us something:

that to deny motion is to refuse existence. Even as

we wake up, with spring susurrus in our ears,

with morning rays dappling our faces,

the vines soak up the orange sacraments

and turn them tender green—

ablaze with a new beginning.


Out from a patch of ash-grey soil,

shooting its body up in the air,

then coiling coiling coiling—

until motion becomes a performance,

only to end up in a narrow aisle of some store,

with dreams of running all over

a lathered body:

touching the parts even light couldn’t—


or perhaps to find oneself tucked in

a roadside vegetable cart,

eyeing those whose tongues know

the secret & exotic taste, a loose thread

of memory lingering in the dark recesses

of a forgotten past, tantalizing the tastebuds

of a nation—in earnest supplication, for times

frozen in reticence, seeking its own defense.

Poetry by MetaPoetics The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 37 times
Written on 2021-09-12 at 15:42

Tags Luffa  Trees  Ecopoetry 

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one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
You are mastering the art of articulation, this is intricate, delicate and convincing.

Uncle Meridian The PoetBay support member heart!

"the vines soak up the orange sacraments
and turn them tender green"

That's fine work.