Disconnect

I remember the winter when my curry leaf plant withered for the first time.

How, I thought, could you shrivel up in the greatest city on earth?

Look at that money plant grow. Everyone wants a cutting.

But you? A singular stalk showing no sign of life.

Life.

Life thrives only at home.

One morning in the late spring we were

drowned in glorious sunlight – me, my house, the money plant and that dead stalk (coming back to life).

Last week Ale asked me if I know the difference between loneliness and solitude.

When I got home, I realized I hadn’t left any lights on.

I cut up some strawberries for my overnight oats, put on a face mask and fell asleep.

Tomorrow there might be sunlight.

Poetry Month 2025, Day 7

Dudurudh