Today I am a pot plant
yesterday a tapestry
of vine leaves tomorrow
I’ll turn emerald green
against the lawn laughing
when they laugh desperately
trying to decipher the rules
of their conversation slipping
in appropriate portions of wit
never stretching my neck out
long enough for them to take a bite
never risking all to feel the cold
silent death of being held
by disapproving eyes never
risking that again.
And only when they’re gone and
coffee cups clinked away
into clean cupboards will I
unfurl my petals
stretch my furry limbs
and breathe a sigh of relief clamber
out from behind the curtains
I’ve been bulging behind
nervous as a small child frozen
in a moment of shame
and chat comfortably
with myself.
Header photograph © Lesley-Anne Evans.
Lucy Whitehead has a BA (hons) in Archaeology and Anthropology and an MA in History of Art and Archaeology (of Southeast and Central Asia). She has worked in academic publishing for much of her adult life, and as an archaeologist, art journalist, and illustrator amongst other things. She writes haiku, haibun, poetry, and flash fiction (mostly magical realism, fantasy, and nonfiction). Her haiku and haibun have been published in various international journals, in 8 countries. Lucy was selected for the European Top 100 Most Creative Haiku Authors in 2018. She has a poem in Twist in Time Literary Magazine.