I often wonder
how long
they've covered this old house.
I often wonder
who planted them.
Every year,
back again.
Climbing,
climbing.
Curtaining the windows
from the outside.
New sprouts
on thick, ancient, gnarled
trunks.
Deep red-orange blossoms
trumpeting
summer.
Heralding the humming birds:
"Come drink of our sweet nectar;
we have made it just for
You."
we have made it just for
You."
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