Rambler

Lifting straight to light
Is fine for upright strains,
But not for petals softened
As the cane inversely grows

To thorns. Perverse, a briar
Needs to bend, to turn
Away from short cuts to the sun,
To move to shade; to keep

In order, roses have to
Twist. Pushed up by tension
In the stalk, crooked sprays
Arrive at cleaner ends, at buds

That would have stayed inside
An ordinary stem.
To spread itself, the vine prefers
Disorder at the tip:

It lets the system flower.