Flor de Mai
You were languishing in your supermarket prison,
surrounded by your companions wearing Mexican hats.
Googly eyes pierced their flesh with thick black moustaches,
drooping and glued underneath.
I rescued you and your fellow inmates from your humiliation.
Today, you sit proudly on the studio desk lit by the sunshine.
Your fleshy leaf-like pads have stretched out into the room with cylindrical stems offering up your dusky, pink flowers to the passerby.
Do you dream of the Brazilian coastal mountains,
the shady, humid shelter of your birth place?
Radiating health in your new home,
you bloom amongst the charcoal and the paints.