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.
A well crafted and beautifully written poem, the meaning I cultivated was the clash between old hopes and new dreams.
Stupendous. I think here is a glimpse to new thought.new dream.
good poem. congratulation. I invite you to read my poem and comment. Yours Gajanan Mishra
I would visit my friends but feel troubled and shy. Nice stitch. This last two lines gives the writing another status of social reality. Beautiful cool writing but much powerful to touch the conscious. Regards, pranab.
A poem of beauty and pain. Friends are like plants give them warmth and love, no matter how they are cut down they will come back.
VERY VERY INSPIRED POEM ALL THE LINES ARE BEAUTIFUL....The newest is brightest................SIMPLE AND SUPER
ha ha. i threw away my plants. my neighbor took them out and kept them now i miss them. and to think some think i act compusively.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
turning a new leaf; nice poem