my affection . . .
It is like a leafy vine on a building wall.
Growing up thick and lush about her foundations,
climbing persistently up her bare
expanses of smooth walls,
beautifully framing windows
in leaf and tendril and wrapping
snuggling around her perfect balconies
(lest they should run away).
She glows with architectural satisfaction,
stands obviously apart from the rows
of plain faced buildings that surround.
Simply enraptured in the attentions of nature.
As the warm days of spring stretch before us,
they bloom. . .
Each little blossom a word of love.
Every breeze looses a teasing, fragrant melody.
And soon, wood and stone, vine and structure are one;
neither the same, without the other.
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