I stare at the green Lily bright,
vibrant in the window light;
moisture at the end of the leaf
causes my heart to jump in disbelief.
A present from a girl long ago,
the plant now just a memento.
Events cast our friendship adrift,
all I have is the plant, her gift.
The Lily it’s moisture weeping
its secreted secrets now seeping.
Is it telling me her heart is sighing
and somewhere alone she is crying?
I wipe the moisture from the leaf
as if to offer my friend relief.