Today I pulled invasive ivy from the backyard, while my husband sat with his father in the emergency room after we received a call that he (my father-in-law) had been delivered there after fainting in church.  And I had several sweet new communications via facebook, and my son and my husband powered through math in spite of setbacks.  Later (with me still smelling of ivy) my husband and I talked of past and future – disappointments and resolutions relating to his father.  All of which amounted to the following:

The ivy is my worthy yard opponent

It teaches me of life as I uproot it

It spreads its complicated woven networks

I comb the loam for horizontal runners

Today I planted several tender tendrils

Beginning branchings that I hope will grow

Nets that can, entwined, uphold each other

A web of trust that all of us can know

While in another branching of the family

The knotted roots of past – betrayal, anger

Pulled consequences out from distant reaches

Touched off by small deception’s ancient hold

I rip out armloads, stuff it all away

As ivy’s images creep, wily, through my day.