A lonely gazebo sits in the distance.
Alone, in the midst of darkness.
Overgrown vines protrude through its cracks.
Alone it sits.
Alone it bears the symbol.
Alone it stands against the woods.
The vines appear to be a canopy waiting to overtake it.
Waiting for their chance.
The vines want a chance.
They wait for their chance,
To stand out.
Alone, the little gazebo stands out in a world of enveloping trees and vines.
Alone it holds up against all that affect it.
Alone it stands above the water.
The water is the biggest threat though.
The water soaks into the legs of the gazebo,
Making it weak.
The gazebo stays strong though.
It stays strong enough to stand up,
against the threat of the vines.
The water does bring promise though.
The gazebo may get help through the river-way.
One-day help will come.
One-day someone will come.
One-day help will arrive.
To prune, pick,
And remove the vines from its beautiful structure.
One-day the gazebo will be as bold as its first day built.
No longer will vines break its wood.
One-day, there will be nothing but the gazebo in a field or lawn.
Only a few people will see the beauty.
No One at all.
How will the gazebo make it alone?
The only Life the gazebo has known has been beauty amongst nature.
Man-built against nature.
How will the gazebo get restored?
No one will see the cracks and broken structure?
The gazebo relaxes.
The gazebo takes pleasure in knowing someone will repair,
And remove vines soon and depart again.
The vines do not seem so bad now.
The gazebo almost seems comforted by the vines.
The gazebo seems stronger then the vines now.
The vines dangle,
The trees hang.
The gazebo is structure that the vines need.
The vines caress the gazebo.
Envelops the gazebo in their arms.
Holding the gazebo steady.
The vines steady the gazebo against the river.
The current is strong,
And the vines hold the gazebo comfortably.
All is good tonight.
All is good.
For the lonely gazebo,
In the distance.