strong hold
It’s dying, I say.
Or at least, I think it’s dying.
I rest my hand against the stock.
The stable hold.
It’s withering. It’s pulling back.
I’m not sure if it’s just the plant,
Or if it’s me as well.
I do save it, in the end.
The new scion slides in and
The junction, rewrapped.
The leaves grow green,
Curling over each other like toes.
Their colour gets darker
Their hold grows stronger.
It’s just the plant, I say.
Or at least, I think it’s just the plant.
Or at least, I think it’s dying.
I rest my hand against the stock.
The stable hold.
It’s withering. It’s pulling back.
I’m not sure if it’s just the plant,
Or if it’s me as well.
I do save it, in the end.
The new scion slides in and
The junction, rewrapped.
The leaves grow green,
Curling over each other like toes.
Their colour gets darker
Their hold grows stronger.
It’s just the plant, I say.
Or at least, I think it’s just the plant.
Jessica Seaborn lives in Sydney and works in book publishing. She is the co-creator of The Regal Fox, a website showcasing fiction and non-fiction from writers all over the world. She has been published in Daily Life, Feminartsy and Milk Magazine. You can find her on Twitter: @Jessica_Seaborn.