In my first home, we grew tomatoes and beanstalks
and expectations like members of the same family.
For a second, I want to be useless. I spent so much of my childhood
trying to be smart. I wanted to be a doctor, lawyer, engineer—
but mostly I just wanted to be needed. I thought myself
a gardener of sorts. Nursed people instead of plants
all the way back to life. Remember, my mother grew up on a farm.
She can’t keep houseplants alive no matter how she tries.
I tried giving her light, water, air. I nearly forced her to eat.
We tended to each other like sundews unsure
what was stalk or flesh. She tells me now, you were a good kid.
Why get a therapist when I have you? I think of how flytraps live in bogs
but get their nitrogen from insects instead.
Remember, she grew up on a farm. Don’t forget she had to leave.
I tended to my garden with fingers and pride grew up from the shoots.
Joy Su is a poet and editor on the east coast who is urging you to support a free Palestine. You can find her work in the lickety~split, the Augment Review, and other assorted publications. When she’s not writing, she’s usually picking up a craft or posting on her Twitter (@joysuwrites).