I was a lonely lavender bush
With a pretty fairy-wing flower
Now!
I am a rotting piece of deadwood.

Last summer
My minder went on a holiday
And left my hanging-basket home
It was left to dry up and crumble.

After!
He dug out my dying roots
And tried to resurrect me
Beyond redemption
I did not arise again.

Now!
In my wrinkled nakedness
He ashamedly hides me away
Inside his family ossuary.