Coma (a Poem for Day Five of PAD)

I'm posting earlier for day five only because I'm afraid I wouldn't get to it. And I'm still trying to get over the I'm-not-thrilled-with-this-poem hump. Practice, practice, practice. 

From Poetic Asides: 

“For today’s prompt, write a vegetable poem. I once wrote a poem titled ‘Tomatoes,’ and that would count. If you want to write a poem about a specific vegetable, go for it. If you want to write a poem that just has a vegetable mixed in somewhere, go for it. If you want to praise or curse vegetables, go for it. If you want to play with the idea of vegetables, including a vegetable mental state, couch ‘potato,’ and so on–well, you know, go for it.”

The Gift of Nourishment

Coma

Immobile tendrils the only roots

left of our ancestry; he’d reached
the top of the trellis on his path
to leaving. We, his only seeds,
now mature offshoots, stood
by, looking down, yet looking up
to him for guidance, wondering
why his stems had turned, wondering
if we would find any life left
to live without the strength
of his vines to lean upon. 

*****