poetry

Geranium

Rubbing fuzzy leaves
Releases distinctive smell
Pink geranium
Awakening memories
Mom’s thriving houseplant green thumb


I’m late to the scavenger hunt (thanks, Val, for sharing it with me) but here’s my response to the first prompt: “Write a poem inspired by leaves (dying ones or newly emerged). For bonus points use a Tanka to express your feelings about the leaves…”

Since the scavenger hunt started in the fall, I’m sure it was intended to inspire poetry about the beautiful colors of autumn. However, I’m writing in February, and immediately thought of my sad geranium. It’s the one plant that I’ve been able to keep alive for multiple years. That alone tells me that it’s an easy plant.

Its leaves turn crispy brown starting at the edges when I forget to water it — which happens more often than it should. Now I’ve placed the plant in a place I walk past all the time so I’ll see it.

“Oh, yeah, you,” I say to those brown-edged leaves. “You need water.”

So I give it water and the whole plant perks up.

Once, when I went on vacation, my son was taking care of the house for me. He remembered to feed the cats but forgot to water the geranium.

Priorities, right?

Anyway, I thought the geranium was a goner that time — but just add water and it’s back.

I do love the smell of the leaves when I’m dead-heading and dead-leafing. They make me think of my mom who, I’m pretty sure, never killed a plant in her life.

This is a photo from a few summers ago. The geranium, on the left, is still alive today. Nothing else in the photo is.

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