Vines Poem by Armadillo Poet

Vines



I have stared long
As the vines crept up the wall.

Inches over months
In bursts of wetness
And straining thinner then thicker
With the panting of the wind.

Turning red like veins,
Passionate even in winter
As they wrap tightly
Around the window frame
Waiting to be let in.

Sunday, November 28, 2021
Topic(s) of this poem: winter
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