The Philodendron

It’s thirty-five years old,

survived three or four new pots,

times of severe haircuts, 

even seasons of drought when left alone 

My mother gave me the plant

in a four inch pot when I first

moved into my own place

Every home she said needs green

Just snip it back if it gets stringy

and let it have both sun and shade

The pot is now quite large

and the plant is thick with leaves

My mother is no longer here

My children are grown 

And still the plant remains—

flourishes with a bit of care

She told me that it only

needed a bit of space, water, sun

and some kind words and love to grow 

April Poem a Day

Prompt: plant in title