The runner bean I planted at dusk
formed tight coils of vine by morning,
green circles grasping a nearby pole
like a newborn’s firm-handed grip.
A parent’s sturdy arm says
“I am here
to help you grow.
Reach around me,
and follow me up.
This way, this way.”
In time, the bean plant grows
and tops the pole.
Unfolding a hundred
broad leaves she says,
“Look, I found the light.
It is here,
and here,
—
Originally published in Thimble Literary Magazine.
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