Potted Plants

[billy]

not sure the line spacing helps pseudonym, best if you only use it for
a good reason

i've read this a few times and the more i red it the more i like it. i do admit to not getting the dyed flower being in soil but it doesn't detract from the poem enough to make it not work. the last lines felt strong enough to carry the sadness inside them.
thanks for the read.

The flower in my mother’s kitchen was dyed:

Inside and out.

But it drew cleansing water from clean soil,

And slowly turned pure white.


The woman in my mother’s kitchen is dyed:

No longer just the parts of her which were already dead;

Her hair, her nails, and now,

Her heart.


If her soil were clean, if her water were clear,

Maybe, slowly, she’d return.

But now, she sits, in this blasted heath,

Soaking up chemicals and bad dreams.