Alone, the morning glories bloom,
And wither in a single day.
Together, their tendrils strive and stretch
In flowering spirals
Along the rusting barbed wire fence.
They creep and crowd
Straight up the creosote-laden poles
That line the highway, strictly measured,
Evenly spaced, and counted.
They reach into the soul of a
Juniper in their path,
Smother it, strangle it
To a resentful frame of pale yellow,
Atop a brittle brown foundation
Of thorns.
Hallucinogenic beauty
Pulsing through the seasons,
Tightening its grip in gradual spring,
Letting go in time for winter’s blinding numbness.
And vulnerable strength is defeated slowly,
With the steady, silent alacrity
That is faith.
Gary Witt
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/along-a-roadside/
