letter to a tropical plant

You escaped from a jungle, or perhaps
some distant relative ( of mine) snipped
a piece of you and hid the tendril in his coat

when it was still possible to smuggle plants
into a foreign country. You have grown
in increments, measurable in feet, not inches

and you seem content to hang in my yard
near towering red tips that shade my porch
from summer. But a cold front has moved in

and I fear that you might catch a chill
which could cause your leaves to wither
your vines to weaken and I would be

without you come Spring. I wanted
to let you know, there is a cricket
somewhere inside your mass of foliage

but it is, after all, still summer and I
don't mind the cricket chirping
if you don't mind listening to me.