I asked you for a plant

I asked you for a plant
For I wanted to see if I can nourish
If I have that maternal instincts
Or even the discipline to keep something alive
For asking for a dog, seemed like a deeper dive

A year passed, I forgot
And then suddenly on the anniversary I got a card
With the card there were chocolates, flowers, a cake
And oh, hidden behind it was a plant

A green stem, upright in the sand
It was beautiful, stuck in a small, white pot
I would water it every day, sometimes I would forget
For I am no mother, very selfish I am, I could introspect

Days passed, and so did months
It had its bad days but always did it emerge
Greener, taller, only looking for a larger pot
The plant that marked the years we spent
It was blooming, flourishing, unkempt

until it wasn't

I couldn’t figure, was it a sign
For we were here not giving each other the time
I would water the stem, and I could see the colours changing
This time, not greener from green
But a shade of brown, dirty, not clean

For it was telling me, slowly & gradually
now it was the time
Time to move on, for you, for me, for it to die down
For what it marked, no more remained,

the vacant pot still sits in my window
white, now blackened further,
For the untouched things that remained
A reminder for the green, blooming, past