Again and again, 
you spring up every year. 
you’ve invaded my heart crowding out
all thoughts that were native and my own.
My younger self delighted in your blooms,
how your taste and nectar prevaded
my tongue and words.
A safe space for the rabbits and coyotes
in the woods, shelter in brush.
But now I constantly battle you, with hedge
trimmers, push mowers, snips, posion,
fire, diesel, tears, anger, fustration, 
why wont you leave?? 
I cannot breath with the crowding foliage, 
and ohh so brittle, sharp limbs. 
Have you not taken enough? Have 
my fences and boundaries not 
suffered enough from your continual 
push, your inability to to understand this 
place is no longer your home? 
begone from my garden, my farm, my memory.
leave me and the brambles, the dogwoods, and lillies behind.