The small flower bed next to my porch still yields surprises after five springs and summers of being here. There is a mystery creeping vine that I’ve trimmed and perhaps hampered–I wonder–but today it came up with fresh apple green leaves and blue flowers that I don’t recall seeing before. I took a photo and wrote a brief poem, a ‘cinquain’.
spreads, tangles, winds upwards,
delicate stars, translucent blue,
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