No matter all the effort
They regrow, sometimes overnight
After all the chopping and swearing
Bastard green leaves, thick ropes
Exhausted, too exhausted to think
Figure it out, find the center
Eternal vigilance: a necessity
and a curse, and a vampire
It's learning when to cut
When to let them go
Having the strength to prevent
succumbing to the vines
In the sunlight gleams my machete:
Her eyes, her heart, her love.
Posts
Gasoline. And a match.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was down in VA last fall, I took some beautiful shots of kudzo, felt her choking stance, and what a beautiful piece sir!
ReplyDeleteYou are too good!
ReplyDeleteSmile...if you are tired of the bastard green leaves and thick ropes.... I would suggest few sheep to do the work for you. Seriously, here in Tallahasee, someone got creative and brought sheep in to eat the kudzu. Amazing how it has become more managed.
ReplyDeleteI am sorry. I know you were bringing your kudzu issue to a new level with poetry but, I could not resist telling you about the sheep.
My words for thrashing through the crap (sorry) would have been less than poetic.
Once again, I love the way you use words.
Learning when to cut... really nice.
ReplyDeleteKudzu just comes back unless burnt and maybe even then it is hard to kill. Love can entwine too.
ReplyDeleteI love that last line.
ReplyDeleteNice one Irish.
ReplyDelete