On the porch the morning glory vines
want to wander off into the eaves
and get lost in the darkness behind the slats.
Every morning I get out the ladder and train them
up the post, and along the string across the lintel,
gently re-routing the tendrils that have gone astray.
You learn not to resist the way
God gently bends your vines
to bring your beauty into a good place.