ivy:

I checked my watch,

I had arrived too early.

The flowers had yet to bloom.

Spring hadn’t fully taken the air.

I tried working my hands into the soil

but had no seeds to sow.

It was cool on my hands.

Does life feel like that?

Maybe I could check her pulse.

It might be in the climbing vine.

Was it wrong to nurture a garden?

I suddenly felt shame climb my neck,

a hangman’s knot of ivy.