I’ve been watering the neighbors’ flowers for a while now
Any time I notice they’ are looking a bit dry
I’ll ask if they need watering
I’ll bring my watering can, along with my gardening shears
I’ll water them
Replace the soil, if needed
And admire them from afar
Once I am finished
I’ll wave goodbye, and dust my hands off on my blue jeans
In the dead of night, I’ll walk back to my place
Fumble for my keys, unlock both pairs of doors
Before I step in, I look at my own garden
My, once vibrant red, tulips are a dusty crimson
The roses we planted together lay to the side
The leaves crunch underneath my work boots
I’ll step inside
“At least their flowers are alive.”

Damienne McCottrell