… look, as you pick them off,
something like this.
And so it occurs to UD
that she’s got ‘found’ art
up there, something to put in
her outdoor containers as the
cold sets in.
With a fierce
mother deer and her fawns
watching her, UD pulls
twisted bits of wood off of the
still-shiny bark of the cherry.
She examines each gnarled piece,
and if it’s interesting, she trims it
a bit and arranges it with other
pieces in in her deep, black pots.
She wonders if they are grape vines.
She wonders if Martha Stewart
Maybe she’ll string lights