bindweed
and through it all
breaking out
my tiny grandmother
with her hunch back
way up the long short garden
with tiny me garlanded
in a necklaces of white
bindweed she said
holding my attention in
a chain that binds me still
way past caring
her wrinkled hand
handing it
to my young hand
handing it on
bend you neck
let it bind you
we’d say
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