A band of trembling sunlight rippling

by Laura Austin 

A band of trembling sunlight rippling- 

Catching my plants in warmth

like the trickle of a summer creek.

Safe from the cold outside, they cannot evade the patterns written into their biology:

the secret code 

that instructs their leaves to shift into brown and crisp 

and fall - 

little pencil shavings on my bedroom floor.

And the bits of them that are alive? 

They 

s

    t

         r

             e

                 t 

                     c

                          h

toward my window. 

They inhale the sunlight.

Devour it.

Safely store a solar spirit in those scarce, emerald, jewelry box leaves. 

Because despite appearance at first glance- 

crumbling or cascading -

they are

alive.