will. summer. never. end.

it’s all just too muchtoo much sunor raintoo much greenboth sides the fencenot just an embarrassment of richesas they saybut abundance that promisesblithely to consume us 
bushes pushing aside the window’s prospectsroots sabotaging foundationscracking wallsvines choking the chosenand cherished, the lilacsthe hemlockthe old fashioned roseremembered from long agothe one our young mother loved
we have to stay on itmowingsawing and loppingbeating back this riotof pure intentphotosynthesisgone apeshitspurred on, no doubtby our ennuigreening galore, ohgrinning greenlyat our hapless aesthetic