The Vine
From the LOVE TRIPTYCH Atop a hill adorning drear, where not all is live but not yet is all dead, where children may have once come to play in antiquity, where lovers might have long ago sworn of forever, where once a life may have been idly lived, now grows a lonesome little Vine. To live alone is drab, of course, for her, lorn is it to live as only her, with not a mother…