The Fence Is Left to Morning GloriesA Poem by Susan Beth Horvath
The fence is left to morning glories,
The heft of their heaping vines - Tendrils and leaves, Flowers and seeds - Each not the weight of a feather But together they sag The rusting chicken wire On the four nails Holding it to birch posts. The fence is left to morning glories, The morning is left to write itself, And the glory is left to God. © 2014 Susan Beth HorvathReviews |
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Added on August 17, 2014Last Updated on August 17, 2014 AuthorSusan Beth HorvathOntario, CanadaAboutJust a simple woman who loves poetry. A single Mom, a widow, with four children. My kids are all in their late teens-early twenties, with only two still at home! empty nest is not far off! Hooray. :-.. more..Writing
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