on the desk
a minute, beige pot painted with flowers
A small pot for a small plant
Or they might as well be
even getting to the next room presents significant challenges
when you are anchored to dirt to live
Scattered throughout the house
are its many siblings
most larger and healthier than it
it great mother is downstairs
living a life of sun and comfort
But this small plant
alone, lives with her
It only has four leaves
and three of them are bent
hunched as if they could not bear
its solitary existence
it is a pale parakeet green
What is wrong, little plant?
Even when she remembers to open the curtains
Do you not receive sun?
Have you been watered,
or are you now desperately draining your roots
for any fluid you can find?
Do you realize that you are alone
in this large world
and that you are merely
an unhealthy, parakeet-green plant
in a small, beige pot
On the desk
of a person
who is fighting their own battles
and has no time for yours?