It’s leggy I know
but I like the way
it dangles
its long legs
down
from the little shelf
above the microwave
and kicks them out
in search of scraps
of light
leaching out
from the edges
of the kitchen window
that would otherwise
provide
the perfect source
of sunlight
if only it weren’t
around the corner
blocked by all the
appliances we never use
and I like the
logarithmic spiral
of its leaves
their jagger-toothed
profiles
that cast barely
a shadow
on white walls
fine hairs
along etiolated stems
and the badly drawn
orange flowers
that appear
only as an affront
to all of my
carelessness
Daniel Cartwright-Chaouki (he/him) is a professional gardener from Birmingham, England. His poetry is informed by a range of themes and ideas. In particular, he focuses on the intersection between people, plants, and landscape. His work has previously been published in Brand Magazine, Pulp Poets Press, Bodies on Bodies Magazine, and The Cannon’s Mouth.