They wind themselves around when they have found it.
Eventually, their growing leaves surround it.
The power line supports them as they try
To stretch a little closer to the sky,
But when the power’s cut, and night goes dark,
Their energy maintains its living spark.
On my walk to and from our office, there are some places where I can see vines reaching up and curling around electrical lines along the side of the road. I just found this to be an interesting sight, and it inspired this short poem.
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