Periwinkle

Periwinkles Winter                                                                                                                like a frosty morning,                                                                                                            heating brown vines                                                                                                              that grow onto cold trees.                                                                                                    The white roots                                                                                                                        like twine, grip deep                                                                                                              in soil that crumbles,     

As clay falls apart bit by bit.

The thin green stem flows 

in the breeze like a flexible straw,                                                                 

as green as a cactus can be.

Leaves falling slowly

Like a snail catching the bus.

Gold pollen taken by busy bees,

As fast as a cheetah.

Edged with shimmer 

made from wishes.

By Kari . Y