It is a marvel that you grow,
For the days I forget you occupy the same property as me
And for the days I forget how custom it is for my
Hands to sweep through you in August.
You claim soil otherwise forsaken to
Spread your roots wide across my backyard--
Even on days I do not water you.
I pick your rubies and watch you from the window,
Never tending, only cutting you back when you
Flourish too greatly.
I am neglectful when mold infects your gems and so
They decompose beneath your bloom.
Still, you do not nip when my fingers
Tangle in your stolons.
It is the slugs who kiss your leaves, never I.
Claire Haindfield is a junior at Mount Si High School in Snoqualmie, WA where she is involved with the Slam Poetry Club. Claire has work published in Disclaimer Magazine and will be featured at the Bellevue Arts Museum in early 2021. When she’s not writing, she enjoys hiking, playing soccer, and traveling.
Comments