North-facing, a sun pact
between flexible and rigid
the wall as back rest the begonia
as flexor, out-leaning, its eye on
the secateurs, their urge to prune
to severity’s edge impeded by
spiders, a canny spin and drape
of webbish life and death among
cane-stems pliable as fishing rods.
May butterflies escape the deadly
silk (favouritism is a separatist?)
The boronia thrives on, microbially
content to bloom when spurt says
time. Secateurs can learn to step
aside. Playing border guard
would end whatever’s going on
—arachnid, host, visa none