Ivy grows artfully to the sun with crafty lies, gnaws characters of stone, bends stoic trees. No breath along the ground, no half-light through the sieve of smothering alien leaves will satisfy; it gains by sinuous slow murder in attenuated shock of aggravating tentacles which lacerate live rock. Malignant forest-fungus dyed autumn-red with blood where constricting serpentine arms embrace the wood, this socially accepted vine by cruel diplomacies absorbs its life from wounded stone and cancerous death of trees. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SAINT PATRICK by EDWIN MARKHAM GARRISON by AMOS BRONSON ALCOTT TO IMAGINATION (2) by EMILY JANE BRONTE A LITTLE CHRISTMAS BASKET by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR A FIESOLAN IDYL by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR |