Poem-a-Day

Poem-a-day

Wait Until It Grows Roots

^{for Alex T.}

a golden shovel after a line in ‘Gitanjali 73’ by Tagore

The plant trimming requires no
less than its water to be changed weekly. I
ask my friend who gifted it to me: when will
I be able to transfer it into soil? She has never
told me anything but the truth. I don’t shut
the window blinds now; my Plant-Friend loves the
sun too much. I’ve been leaving the doors
open too; the spirits flit more freely now. Yes, of
course I’m afraid of death, but no less so my
own life. A friend can bring you back to sweeter senses.

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Previous Poems

Title	Author	Date
The Mortal Lease	Edith Wharton	02/17/2019
Love Songs (I)	Mina Loy	02/16/2019
to be considered before inviting everyone to The Cookout™	Rasheed Copeland	02/15/2019
Hon or We have both traveled from the other side of some hill, one side of which we may wish we could forget	Anis Mojgani	02/14/2019
1000	Safia Elhillo	02/13/2019
When I Am a Hummingbird	Alan Michael Parker	02/12/2019
Jakarta, January	Sarah Kay	02/11/2019
On Joy and Sorrow	Kahlil Gibran	02/10/2019
Albert Schirding	Edgar Lee Masters	02/09/2019
Prayer Severing the Cycle	Donte Collins	02/08/2019

Title

Author

Date

The Mortal Lease

Edith Wharton

02/17/2019