By Matthew Porto
An unruly garden, where vines
choke the tall trees that lift
the fence post from its soil,
spoiling the weevil’s lunch.
The sun, animating a thousand
thin wings, sets leaf-veins sucking;
the nosing fox, on the move, finds a thorn
to prick her air passage; the rose bush
casts shadows level with the axe-edge
of the root braided in the ground;
clear morning sunlight cutting
through leaf-space and gaps in branches
until shade-patches on the patio spread,
finger the path, wash the entranceway
of the house that stands open, warm
window shade eyelids blinking.
Matthew Porto is an MFA candidate and teaching fellow at Boston University. After earning a bachelor’s degree in English from the University of Scranton in 2012, he taught ESL in Tainan, Taiwan for one year. His work has most recently appeared in SWAMP and Strange Horizons.