the camera is impeccably placed,
pillars bookend the frame.

he leans on his spade
stuck in the ground, perfectly erect -

scissors dangle by her
fingers, mouth open, jaws showing,

unruffled in the air
& their she-plant in between

perfectly still, dewdrops dropped so
that it is star-studded,

leaves at a constant angle with each
other, veins rectified, stem fair brown,

roots hold earth soft spokenly, no
tendril is curlier than the other.

b  r  o  t  h  e  r        w  i  n  d 

will bring the frost, you'll have to
shiver yourself -

let the drops fall where they will,
leaves elope come autumn

& tendrils thrust through pillars
until they no longer confine the
frame.

~Ajay
17/8/19