A wild grape vine,
sprouted in the midst of my south lilac bush several years ago.
A bird planted it –
a pooped seed vine.
Now it is over twenty feet high,
tendrils waving from the top of an old Rowan tree.
Thirty feet down,
I am training another of its shoots
to grow along my fence.
All this marvelous green shade because once,
a bird ate a grape
well, then, it pooped in my back yard.