The plant

It’s the first day that I’m waiting

For my plant to grow.

The third times a charm, I

told my plant as

I grew impatient, “I’ll replant

You” I have said.

Once, I buried the pit of a mango

I could not tend to

And hoped the rain and hoped

The sun would.

“You should have

Told me” were words that my grandma

Uttered, and admonished,

I went to dig in her

Garden and couldn’t find it.

And afraid I tend to plant

Again and again,

Asking that an entelechy such

As a sprout of sewn seeds in any garden

In my garden grow.

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