I saw the plant through the window of the meeting room
A bedraggled thing –
Clearly wilted, but not yet quite in the waterless tomb –
Determined to cling.
But every time I passed, the space was fulfilling its mission,
Hosting a crowd –
I hadn’t a hope of providing the patient a little nutrition,
Or sparing the shroud.
Not unless I fancied talking of paradigm shifts
And stakeholder rights,
Or talking shop about new regulations and faulty lifts
Between doughnut bites.
Until, at last, while walking by on my way to the train,
And a forlorn glance –
The lights were out, but the hallway fluorescents leaked through the pane…
I took my chance.
I had just a drop in my water bottle, to break the drought
With barely a stream –
But I saw some dregs in the coffee cups that were strewn about
And a pot of cream.
And a leak in the corner of the room had collected on the window sill –
And that was its lot.
Then I never found that room so empty again, till a fire drill
Gave me a shot.
The rest of the time, I’d pass the window and flick my eyes,
To check its state,
But through endless workshops preaching the need to synergise,
It didn’t look great.
Yet when I finally proffered my notice, on my very last day,
I was glad to see,
That that poor and bedraggled little bit of green in amongst the grey
Was outlasting me.