My Heart Is Healing

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Abstract

ce=medium&utm_medium=referral">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure><p id="7841">I took a pair of scissors to the wild blue wisteria silently creeping over the hard fences engirthing me,

pushed by the irritation that had hummed from days of watching bees, testing these fences for sturdiness. They left behind nectar, the first few

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days,

and then some sludge when I dropped a few cinnamon sticks, but the neighbor took the sticks away one freezing night, to bake a cake, I know he did,

the cake and ale are sitting at my door in a spread of sprigs, the sprigs that unbeknown to me, slid through the fences, and fell in to my space ©M.D.B.</p></article></body>

My Heart Is Healing

a Poem

I took a pair of scissors to the wild blue wisteria silently creeping over the hard fences engirthing me, pushed by the irritation that had hummed from days of watching bees, testing these fences for sturdiness. They left behind nectar, the first few days, and then some sludge when I dropped a few cinnamon sticks, but the neighbor took the sticks away one freezing night, to bake a cake, I know he did, the cake and ale are sitting at my door in a spread of sprigs, the sprigs that unbeknown to me, slid through the fences, and fell in to my space ©M.D.B.