A wild grape vine,

sprouted in the midst of my south lilac bush several years ago.

A bird planted it –

yep –

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

and then,

well, then, it pooped in my back yard.