Poetic Journal Year 166 B.E.

166.174a How grows the vine

How grows the vine

Full of blue-eyed laughter,
you were a glorious sunny day
of composted bullshit, piss ant pranks
that bled to jaded, colorless dismay
then fled to fenced off fortress rafters,
barricaded sun-and-moon above my reach
coffined now behind your faded cedar planks
that still one stray tendril seeks to breach.

© Kåre Enga [160.174a] 2009-08-12

From Mandy's prompt in her plog entry "Invalid Entry"