Upside Down and Out of Place

Spiked arms sprawled, tipped and bent,

the dirt spills cold onto cracked floor.

Green turned sickly, brown tipped and dry—

a sudden fall from the windowsill’s core.

The rush, the careless shove, the crash,

a moment lost and roots undone.

The tiny desert pushed to earth,

broken light and shadow spun.

Prickles turn to bruises now,

twisted in a pot not meant to break.

Sun falls hard, unforgiving here,

a cactus struggling in the wake.