Roots
Much like a plant
We grew down before up
Reaching out thread like tendrils
Searching for a spot where the soils just right
I didn’t have to reach outside the pot in which my seed was buried
How fortunate
Fertilizer packed just so
Not too tight nor too lose
Down I grew, preparing for what’s ahead
It’s warm down here
No wind, nor insects
Sun warming the soil through the window to which I was placed near
warm tap water that drips on my head each morning
As my master drinks her coffee
It’s our little ritual
“Psst” I hear from my nosy neighbor
A seed born of the same flower
“Did you hear? Frank broke soil last week.
It wasn’t but a day before the cat came by, curious at the new house member and nibbled at him, ate him right down to the seed, I heard.”
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