Morning Glories Are September

Morning Glories,

September's flower
         my birthday's
velvety perfume wafting
         like the wines
of delicate form
run wild across
a grey old
freedom road
         dusty
California Avenue
blooming fluted
yellowed and
         white
tangled up in my
hardened heart
stems like
timepieces
I grow old with
each year
each unraveling
         vine
yes, like wine
a trial in my dark
         past
I am the ruins of a
brick mansion

this is my birthplace
this is where
I sucked my fertile
         mother
through a vertual dawning
calendar of
sparrows and
delights


First Place Winner Of The Picky Poetry Contest--November '06