Do I have to tame you?
You’re not lions.
And this little backyard outside my unit
is not a cage
so why don’t you behave?
I only watered you a few times during the week
and you burst out like a prison break.
You leave me no choice.
No, no, it’s too late to plead.
These shears will prune you back
to more modest dimensions.
Don’t worry. The bees will still come.
the yellow-shouldered honey-eaters and wattle birds
& I’ll still write poems about you.
All will be well.
But such profuseness ….
*pic courtesy of Wikimedia Commons