Killing my Dependents and Feeling Bad

Look, for the second time in one year
The house plants have died.
And the first time it was succulents
And they did not like the shuttered windows
And wasted away to little twigs in the dark.

Now it is some flowers from Easter.
We have not beaten death this time.

I suppose it is my fault but I will blame you too and
I will blame my hands for shaking and
I will blame my blunted brain for forgetting that
Water is to plant as iron to blood,
No sinews formed in absence of either.

Ok, so, it is the second time this year
That decay invaded my home first.

The succulents and the spring buds both
Started their lives in the dirt.
They wove themselves into the earth by force and
Even in death they clung to the soil sucked dry and
They wanted to stay, they wanted to stay.

M. E. Hoban earned her BA in English from the University of Michigan, where she spent four years on the editorial staff of Fortnight Literary Press. She is now a poetry reader for Bombus Press.