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sylvia plath and plants

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i have parts of two love poems
stuck in my head but

i don’t want to write
about love. i want to write

about leaves. i want to write
about what they are not, but

i am no scientist. i don’t know
anything of what they aren’t or are.

water-bearers? the hump
in the camel’s back? something like that…

i can’t remember what i learned
in biology class– big words: chlorophyll

and photosynthesis. nothing of how they startle
walking alone to take out the trash. it’s funny

how the night is only scary
surrounded by concrete,

cut off from grass and
dirt between toes.

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