The Roots Of

There is a time for departure even when there’s not certain place to go.
                                                                      ~Tennessee Williams

The plant you left me was rotting,

but I refused to throw it away.                               

What I loved I thought I had to keep,

because it would mean something if I didn’t.

Would its wilting leaves bring life to my own?

Or would its death impart a guilt -

remind me that I forgot to nurture it with light, with love.

That is was me who couldn’t bring it back to life.

Forward momevment conceived

until the moment I would feel it’s weeping stems

and save it for one more day.

Every time, stubbornness prevailed.

I will not give up on this.

But the worms slithered and the roots of it’s life grayed.

It got infected.

It died.

I tried to save it, but it died.

I really tried to save it.