My plant is alive.
Her vibrant green leaves stretch towards the sun--
tanning like a ******* a beach.
The soil that once betrayed her
now befriends her and helps her flourish.
The warmth from the window
cradles each small limb
down to her roots.
Photosynthetic joy overcomes her.
Encompassed by his love--
growing stronger each and
every day.
Spring is drawing near, and I am glad
I left my window open
so the vernal light could drift in.
The rain and wind that hardened her
did not stop her
from rising up again.
Oh, how time has eased her pain.
No, the cold didn't agree with her,
but it'll take more than that to **** her.
The broken leaves that fell to her feet
now serve as a reminder of what she once was.
She's not so lonely anymore,
for he smiles at her and
knows she can only grow more.
See previous poem: "November"