The smallest tendril
has me in its grip
in the garden

part of a newborn
butternut squash plant
I watch it
reaching across the ground
though I can’t actually see when it makes a break for it

but

day after day
it reaches further
over rocks and
barriers
and seems headed for the fence
but I can’t be certain
and I can’t google map its path either

nothing can stop it
along the way
teensy pods start
shooting out
of its green arms

but those tendrils
they’ve got me hooked
I think they’re the master plan
the deciders

so much smaller than the rest of the plant
with its cap of big-ass leaves
furry and fuzzy underneath
with a dashing white stripe on top
looking like a wanna be
fig tree
garden of eden

at breakfast Myra asks
Why all those long lives in the bible anyways?
You know, folks aging to 100 200
even that one going to a thousand years no?

Methuselah
Metushelach

I’m homesick
can’t decide how or
where to be buried
when my time comes
just want to be next to her
my tendrils still reaching

she’s right

how to live
a long one
or even a shorty

how?

coiled up like a
delicate green curlicue
nature’s bedspring
clearing a path
creating a life
together