I stand on tiptoe and stretch my arm to pour water
Caspian Reid is an artist and writer living in Edinburgh, Scotland. When not working cataloguing books in the library, they can be found by the sea, or buried in their local bookshop.
Each Daily Watering
There is a plant
in my windowsill.
It is one in a long series
of attempts to pour love through my fingertips
A desire to nurture,
There have been many
and I have loved each in turn
as they passed by,
A victim of sun or dark
Drought or deluge
Too small a container
A cat’s curious paw
or simply my own forgetfulness.
Oh, the petals scattered
on roads of good intentions.
But back to my windowsill
And the pot sitting in gentle daylight.
I stand on tiptoe and stretch my arm to pour water,
Lifting myself as I hope to lift the green, green leaves
And I feel something flow between us
A wish, I’d call it,
Without wanting to seem childish;
A wish for revival,
Each daily watering a renewed vow –
I am here.
I will keep being here
If you do too.
And every new leaf feels like a pact:
We’re growing together.
I try my best to be reliable,
instill a routine of water
(such a simple thing to ask for,
such an impossible thing to conjure.)
Sometimes I forget
And the guilt is soft but undeniable;
My plant does not say anything when I give it extra water
to make up for yesterday’s absent-mindness,
But I write post-it note reminders
And stick them on walls
Above the sink, beside the kettle, on the TV.
My plant does not say anything
When I forget again, despite my best intentions
But I pour water with extra tenderness
All the same.
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