Hardy Variety

The girl at the nursery

promised me a miracle for forty bucks.

She called it resilient,

a word I wanted to take home

and keep in a ceramic pot.

But I walked in tonight

after twelve hours of keeping it together

and found the floor covered

in rusted hair.

The soil is still heavy and black.

It has everything it needs

to be green,

but it just gave up

against the white baseboard.