In the kitchen window
the coleus I cut down to stumps
to make cuttings for friends
is spreading new leaves to the sun.
Small hairs
the light catches
rise from the new leaves;
red seeps into green
along the veins.
The newest
is brightest.
The plant
cocks intelligent
faces
at the sun
and looks and looks and looks.
I would visit my friends
but feel troubled and shy.