I collect clipped-leaf infants
of coleuses but I am not
the mothering type.
My carpet is a collection
of beige leaves fallen
in a firm fuzz of plushed felt.
When I say that I am a plant person,
I mean that I want to be,
because keeping someone alive
is a learned skill and I am still
self-practicing. I am planting
myself in the oaten orchard
of my living room,
I am trying to let myself live.
”Oaten Orchard” is a poem that I wrote in 2019. It was published in The Mark Literary Review, which you can read online.