I forget about the aloe plant on my desk
All of the time. I am surprised how
It still prickles the air, filters the wind
And tames my arm to politely excuse itself by
A few months it must have been since last I looked
At my desk to find something exactly the same
Make a gasp at my unforgivable absence
Apologize in a scurry, and give the fill of a cup to
It, in the storm I simulate, buckets dribble
Against the drinking dirt, life goes backward
In time if it were to cry. The plant is not
Like me. All of the water stays in
In this misunderstanding
Of my abandonment, I line myself wholly
With the clouds that are off having
A busy day disappearing
Plant mother to plant mother, I get it
The sun shines on, dutiful and tired
And I am tempted to break off a bit of her stem
In the warm, so tempted, to break her open
And see what she is made of
I have no use other than to feel a little
But not today, we only just reunited
Another day, when someone gets burned
Photo by Jessica Lewis 🦋 thepaintedsquare on Unsplash
