Poem by Olivia Peterson
Three plants sit at my window.
when I bought them it was sunny and dry,
fuzzy white patches on the thick, green, leaves.
Now they sit against a dark and wet horizon.
I try to tend to them every day,
but they can’t get enough water.
I buy a spray bottle and mist them with more water.
Yet still they sit dying at my window.
So sad, I think, as I watch them today.
Spray, drip, mist, but still too dry.
Quite different from the cold and wet horizon.
I shift their pots and prop up their leaves,
but this plague on my plants never seems to leave.
I pick up my can, fill it with water,
and feed my plants as my eyes scan the horizon.
I move to the left. The view is better from this window.
Then I inspect the soil. A bit dry.
Good thing I water them 20 times a day.
I can’t stop watering, but maybe someday.
Twice a day I check them, inspecting every leaf.
I am filled with sorrow because one looks dry.
I pick up my can and water, water, water!
After this I feel better and look out my window.
I shift my plants toward the sun, as it moves to the horizon.
I love the look of my plants against the horizon.
But wait, one looks dead. Did I water it yesterday?
I can’t remember. My spray bottle smashes the window.
I pick shards of glass from the leaves.
Then I take my can and begin to water.
I feel the soil between my fingers. Too dry.
My plants are always too dry!
I gather them up and throw them to the horizon.
I stomp on their leaves and drown them in water.
I will always remember the day
I killed my plants. I left
them to die and now there are no plants on my window.
