31/10/2006 7:16:38 PM

Vines

the lines of messy redness

criss and cross,

searching the lipless soul

for a ring of silver, sparkling

in the brown mass of trees,

beads unaware, letting the

snowy mountain smile with glee,

rainforest crumble, crunch, cackle,

stretch your pale flesh to the spring fresh dew.