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The green vine is moving. The motion's too slow to be visible but it is racing, racing feeling for a way across the wall of fence it's scrawling on, inches added every day. Forwarding, sunwarding, it claims its place. Green states its claim. It writes the lesson of the day: longing, longing coming true while arcing out and up according to the instruction of desire. Sun-hungry its tip has tilted toward sun-space. Already it is speeding leaf-notes out of its root all along the sprigless budless thread still scribbling the deed of its location. In two weeks or one or four morning glory. — Marie Ponsot, poet Excerpt from EASY. Copyright © 2009 by Marie Ponsot. Excerpted by permission of Alfred A. Knopf, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. In honor of National Poetry Month, Knopf will give you a free poem every day |