It’s all about the flowers, mother used to say

she could never understand
why anyone would keep a plant
that doesn’t blossom

why water it
if it will never offer you
the joy, the beauty,
the ultimate satisfaction

I was too little to argue
but what could I have argued for?

a plant is joy
beautiful in itself?

I knew she wouldn’t understand

so I would lower my head
like a defeated soldier

and leave the room
quietly

slow enough for my ears
to catch her voice again:

it’s all about the flowers,

she used to say

(July 2011)