Morning glories

I have been meaning to write about the morning glories all summer long - some lovely prescient soul in Dobbs Ferry planted morning glories along the railing of the steps down to the train. Every morning I walk by them and smile at their bright purpleness, their twisting twirling vines. But then of course by the time I arrive at work I've forgotten them, and on my way home they are all closed up.

We ate at a cafe in Ashland Oregon last year called, I think, the Morning Glory. They had a poem by Basho stenciled on the walls:

Breakfast enjoyed
in the fine company of
morning glories

I think of it when I see them. There are many more of his haikus here:
http://thegreenleaf.co.uk/HP/basho/00Bashohaiku.htm