Green Ivy

Slow as sin, the ivy climbs over the wall,
a beautiful green creep,
all vines and veins,
seductive beauty,
a murderess in a tight dress and good hair,
fresh from her film noir debut
and ready to kill on her own.

About this poem

I love ivy. Ivy kills.

I love film noir.

I have no idea where this poem came from or what it means, but it was fun to write.

Tom