Linda Leedy Schneider
The Yellow pages are open to M – massage.
A pot of Chives languishes next to the book.
Since September when I brought the pot inside,
half of the hollow leaves have died.
Chives are not like Swedish Ivy,
ivy so compliant that I can pluck the hand-like leaves
and use them as molds for melted chocolate.
Sometimes red liquid leaks from the leaves
as I separate them from the plant,
but I brush it aside and decorate
dessert plates with perfect chocolate leaves.
Chives are not like the Ficus Tree
that drops leaves at every breeze,
not sturdy like the Spider Plant
that carries its offspring on strings.
These Chives are not ready to be clipped
for stew or stirred into cream cheese.
The Chives in my blue ceramic pot
may not see Spring again.
I carefully separate the dead from the living
whenever I bring water.