For several days a kudzu shoot has been climbing the young pine. Its Archimedean spiral floats tentatively around the tree as if following the invisible girth of a hundred years’ growth. Having achieved the height of a person in a single week, it leans back like a snake in a gesture of levitation, waiting for its moment to strike.
Soon the vine’s slow, primordial mind will give it orders to close in on the tree and spread an intricate lattice of tendrils over the rough bark, enjoining once separate lives in a tight embrace. The pine will brighten with the shine of new leaves, but after many years the aging vine’s color will come to match its partner’s, like the evenings of an old married couple.
Soon the vine’s slow, primordial mind will give it orders to close in on the tree and spread an intricate lattice of tendrils over the rough bark, enjoining once separate lives in a tight embrace. The pine will brighten with the shine of new leaves, but after many years the aging vine’s color will come to match its partner’s, like the evenings of an old married couple.
before
and after thunder,
such quiet . . .
and after thunder,
such quiet . . .
by Gary LeBel
Cumming, Georgia
Cumming, Georgia
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