Sally Mitchum
The merest chink
Unseen between the bricks
Is all the first tendril needs
It pushes in
Tenacious.
Slowly, inexorably, grows stronger
Stealing nutrients from fertile soil
Fresh shoots loop
And spiral though older growth
Tangling and strangling
What should be treasured.
The experienced gardener
Would rip it out
At first sight.
Slash and burn.
But I did not recognise the danger
And allowed the roots to grow strong.
I clip and trim, clip and trim
Paring back where I can.
Too hesitant to rip it out
For fear of what else I will destroy.
Or for fear that, Hydra-like,
It will take greater hold.
Sally Mitchum
