Haven’t always had a thumb green

happy enough with a mason jar of flowers

My potted plants at best refuse to grow

desiccated roots, crepe paper stems dead

my days root bound, desperate to leaf

etiolating towards the slightest beams of joy

Started with a snake plant, half dead

slender sharp leaves banded verdant green

under my care, one weary leaf

needed to save her, to see her grow

Glass jars of emerald joy

on my sill, my imagination flowers

truculent roots blossoms on a cut leaf

still leathery, two shades of dead

but now with a sprout of joy

helping something grow

my breast burst with flowers

look at my fingertips of green

Sansveria sparked succulent joy

Inebriated on green

drowsy heads of orchid flowers

purple inch plants, flame crotons all dead

but warty tongues and cacti pricks grow

puns aside, turning a new leaf

new speciems replace the dead

something inside ripens; bears flowers

weird wonderful desert gems green

in sight nary a leaf

Savage spines become my joy

from five to fifty the numbers grow

comforted by resilient flowers

my veins pulse evergreen

my collection continues to grow

despite my grief, joy

I am the upturnt leaf

blooming life from the dead