there’s something serendipitous about a plant
growing straight up in the middle of winter
sitting in its snow white pot on the kitchen table
while the deathly cold grips everything outside
a quarter of an inch taller each day
the thick green stalk points upwards
to the ceiling
the sky
the harmony of the heavens
flower bud cradles the top
it’s almost ready to open
like a baby’s eyes in the morning
into passionate red petals
a complete flower sparkling
ready to finally take its place in
the pantheon of plants
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