Their seeds are in the soil always. br Dig them or yank them up, br spade over them—they will be back. br The creepers thread roots br through the soil’s lacy eyes. br The sprouters love true darkness. br The binders make a weakness br out of strength. br br Crown vetch, velvetleaf, creeping Charlie. br Leaves like umbrellas, like hearts, br barbed arrows lifted to the sun. br The ordinary and the obscure br all bound to the same dirt. br br Some defend themselves with thorns br and some with flowers. br Some dig their roots deeper br than water. Some make it br to the edge of the known br world before dying back. br br Like us, they are all tender br at the start. What they grow into br is another story.