She brought the plant home in the springtime
She was just looking for something green
That wouldn’t need much water
Wouldn’t need much sun
To brighten the bathroom window
He hung it for her from the ceiling
In a macrame basket she’d made
She was surprised by how quickly
It reached for the sun
All the leaves were turned the same day
She noticed the buds in late August
As she reached up to water the pot
There were so many of them
Such an odd shade of white
She thought about triffids and laughed
It was the middle of the night when the pods burst
They found him first; he slept nearer the door
By the time she was alerted
By the change in his breathing
They’d gotten to her, too. It was over.
The neighbors will find them in the morning
Her sisters will come the next day
Each will take home a plant
To remember her by
And to brighten a window, as well.
— Mary Zikos
Mary Zikos, a Princeton resident, is stockroom manager for Princeton University’s molecular biology department.
