Captured pet plants grow in my window. Why these specimens are given such regal care I suspect, but can’t explain. Delicate shoots pile out of sturdy stalks; roots force the confines of my decorative pots. How many neighborly blooming faces stare into my kitchen, greeting me mornings? I am amazed what good company my leafy friends can be when I am loving myself. Advantageous to my mental health, I breathe their exhaust and they breathe mine. Symbiotic, we live. I grow and flower; grateful these plants keep me.
Allow also small dreams that fit in your hand.
Baby’s feet kick in the isle
and we are all cocooned in our seats.
The movies play and earphones dangle in our ears.
We are jetting across the country in our own little worlds.
Landing can not happen soon enough for me,
not that I want to foreshorten the flight.
I just know I have a stack of lives waiting for me
and I would like to get back to living them.
I have been a week away, a vacation for sure and true
but I have my keep to earn, my obligations are many.
I hope to have done myself proud when I am through,
but until then there is much to do.
You are reading selections from Sober on the Way to Sane and More Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault