“PLANTS”

After she moved in with me, here,
we bought a great big basil plant.
It sat outside, nearest the sun—
but not quite in the sun.
We faced an alley, there.
Years later, I still do
face the alley. Anyway,
she must have decided
it was my job to water
it because when
it died,
it was my fault.
When she moved out,
there was a list of other
grievances. But at the top of
her list was the plants;
Yellow as weathered newspaper;
Uncared for and neglected.
Of course, she got her own
great big basil plant in her own space
and of course, she couldn’t keep it
any better than I could.
She and I, years later, now
are still together, though living separate.
Sometimes, all that’s required
to keep things green
is to uproot them and change
their soil. And plenty of sunshine.
Plants and people;
They aren’t much different;
Especially the dead and weathered,
keeping us living six inches deep
in remorse.

narrative poem written on 09-08-2011 by: on mattkane.com
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