Backyard Nemesis

I just couldn't write something sad or political today. I actually didn't think I'd be able to write anything but I managed to get some words down on paper. That's a win in my book.

"Backyard Nemesis"

Long and sinewy,

winding through underbrush,
hiding, subtle,
catching the unwary
unaware.
 

Grabbing, tearing

clothing or skin
Indiscriminately.
War wounds of
Backyard adventure.

But these aren’t weapons,

But guardians of the precious:
blackberries, roses, firethorn,
bougainvillea, raspberries,
and more.

Is it truly summer without

a run in with a stately or
sneaky or surprising
pricker bush?
Spilling blood, giving to the soil.