Muscadine Fall

Grapes gripped the ground

With frail roots like weak claws
Scratching the topsoil
Searching for life, now muted

Inching so slowly toward cloud
Unperceivable progress
The Muscadine vine looks skyward
Dreaming of a time when heat and drought
Didn’t hit back

In spite, they stand tall
Spreading roots while no one watches
Setting up for more summers like this
Visible growth halted, they appear silent
As they ready and steady for the next

Muscadine ancestors whisper across Texas
“Hold fast and be patient”…
“This suffering is temporary
You’ll see plenty if you stick around”
As roots slow, canes harden
Green gives to wooden as temperatures fall
I trim and worry, helpless
Unable to affect this hard little plant