one assumes
there’d be much to say

on the tossing out
of houseplants

into March’s early Dumpsters
the earth-clinging kind

pledged to endure
but never flourish

unappeased by light
or less of

by water or less of
for years indomitable

placed high and then low
sulking and eager

life
at odds with life

whose minty tufts of ribbon
at the brittle end

bedraggle—
parting words beyond

You tried, or I tried —
a tribute more

(and you’ll forgive me)
perennial.

G.R. Harriman is a writer and poet living in southwest Colorado. His work has appeared in Atlas Poetica, Kestrel, Toasted Cheese, and Naugatuck River Review. His chapbook I, Menagerie was published in 2021 by Finishing Line Press. Please follow him on Twitter @Inadversent.