we reach for the heavens,
the plants and I do.
They reach all day long, turning their emerald palms flat toward the sun. When I turn their pots, they bend the other way and develop a permanent kink in their spines.
I think them pathetic sometimes. So needy. Sun, sun, sun. So frail. Wilting without water, slumping without sun.
But here I am, standing behind them, my arms stretched in a sun salute, mimicking the V of their own arms. I lean backward, trying to snap the kink out of my spine. I lean forward, gulping in light.
So needy, so frail.
I think I will walk around all day with my palms up.
(This post is one in a November series for NaBloPoMo, National Blog Posting Month. You can find the rest here!)