Victorian Violet Press
Christmas Cactus
She faded before Yuletide
-- left me orphaned.
I adopted her favourite cactus,
brought to cheer her
in the dreary ward,
took it home to nourish.
Trapped by mourning’s rut,
I neglected it.
Grief eased; I found the plant
desiccated, like my core.
Wilted with guilt
I teased encrusted roots
from sapless earth,
pampered it with fresh soil,
water and good food.
To my astonishment, cerise buds
now tip verdant leaves.
It’s late spring,
yet Christmas Cactus blooms.
Eira Needham
