Kudzu
The Kudzu hadn't yet creptup roadsides bristled with Purple Thistle
dispersed among the Queen Anne's Lace.
Wildflowers flashed past as I looked back
at the irridescent mountain crests-
rippled spasms in faded denims
under a firmament powdered blue
mottled in lilac grays.
It was nature's time to gather
her nurturing rain showers.
Taste of horsemint and blackberry
still lingered on my tongue
as the storm chased us down
on the twisting roads back,
patched with Daisies,Sunflowers,
Black-Eyed Susans and Aaron's Rod.
Then, the Kudzu closes in.
Poetry by melanie sue
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Written on 2009-08-05 at 23:52
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Chris Fernie |
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