Eulogy to Basil

There you stood.

Barely.

Stooping.

Couldn’t look you in the eyes because I never found them, really—

And even if I did,

Couldn’t have told ’em from the foliage clutter that your head is

Hanging from your base, you would laugh if you’d see

Say it looks just like that primrose you saw on some show on TV

In the scene where a main character got killed in a corporate setting and you spotted that thing on a side desk

It didn’t even fit in.

I had noticed you waving.

Like I did in the beginning.

As the green leaves your body I only think of breathing and how you’d do it (in reverse).

I should’ve let the sun in but didn’t notice your veins drain

Or your fading green

Or the ground crack where you were standing

Mom told me I was forgetting something.

RIP Basil, my fern. 

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