The offspring of houseplants travel,
door to door, time to time, from
flowerpots emerge bearers, new sprung life,
bringers, propagators.

Dumb canes, cactus, wandering ivy,
dwarf umbrella, ponytail palm and jade,
willingly give up offshoots, their young,
so sons and daughters, nieces, nephews,
aunts and uncles alike, can share a piece
of the peace they seek, a petal of the home
once loved.

Small leaves wedged in dirt grow tall
in time, the clippings keep on
across years, life erupts, environs away;
an african violet on a trek to china, to boston,
to the stars as need be.

Some fail hard, too drastic the change,
the love once known not found,
the giver unsure of how
ties sever.

I have many plants, o’ loved ones,
laceleaf, bromeliads, dark green philodendron.

Tell me which you wish to have,
I’ll pinch and clip till their yours.

Love, Chagall – 2018