Artifice

Top: Azaleas growing in a pot, from Trader Joe's.
Bottom: Polyester flowers, decades old, sharing the writer's mug with writing pens, markers, highlighters, a pair of scissors, and a  pink plastic ruler.

At flora of fabric
some turn up their nose.
They say, "It ain't flowers
except if it grows!"

Real flowers demand
my meticulous aid.
I can't overwater
or keep them in shade.

My flowers are eternal.
On wire stems they grow.
Their plastic leaves perk up
when dusted for show.

And if I neglect them,
they don't seem to mind.
No sad falling petals
anoint me unkind.

When I'm on vacation
my flowers don't lack.
They're happy to see me
whenever I'm back.

And whether it's wintry
or summery hot,
I always have flowers
whether or not.