napowrimo day 28

by larapayne

Negative Space

The poison ivy must be removed
before this blackberry can root.
A plastic bag sleeves my arm
I hope for a tight seal.
A good artist knows
that the space between
what is seen and unseen
is often the most important space.

I learned about negative space early.
My mother, a painter;
my grandmothers, painters;
my father, a photographer.
Not one of them always there.
‘There’ being where I was.
Or should I say, where they were not?

The vine comes up easily,
I try not to itch, or remember
how my eye swelled shut, that last time.
The leafy part is just the edge.
The seen, the visible, the warning.
Feel how the vine resists
removal, then releases
and then holds. Determined.
I don’t want to feel sympathy
for this plant that causes me
such discomfort, seasonally.
It wants to live, to thrive
As do


I could use some advice- the title and the ending, specifically.. Any thoughts?