The cactus plant in the window

Bends, as plants do, toward light

Looks the same as it did last year

Spines raised to protect the soft heart.

I water it on holidays, thinking

As I do, that something will erupt

In unexpected beauty, a revelation

That love blossoms in the most austere

The most arid of spaces.

Spider webs cross the spines

Tying all the feelings that I have

Into a silent, unchanging bundle.

The cactus lives, I think.



Brad G. Garber © 2008