Shelter. Cage.

Somebody made it elliptical, not angular:
Things that start one-where end
elsewhere. You keep trying, even if thwarted
when, on a grey day, the sun won’t work
as a talisman. Might as well be in a maze.

Trumpetvine, wisteria, plus princess flower.
Bougainvillea, with its irksome papery tidbits
dusting the ground. Jasmine that startles you
when its musky hints appear. And what a bother:
a tiny pink rose is mostly eclipsed, too high to see.

What do you think you are doing here,
behind such a complex hedge? A gardener
deals with the tangle, but what a strange
idea to cluster these motley plantings
around the patio. And then allow a serpent of ivy in.