The first page of a notebook is like the naming of a child

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In the Garden

With the understanding that everything dies

And all must end

Surrounded by trees

With countless little green leaves

I can’t help but wonder

What the last leaf

On the last living branch

Of the last living tree

In that luscious garden of Eve

Must have felt like

Was it lonely?

Was it cold?

Was it afraid its story would go untold?

Did it reminisce the short-lived good times

Before the fall of Father Adam and Mother Eve?

When he planted trees for her to name

And picked flowers

For her hair

Was it cold?

Was it Lonely?

On that last day

In the garden of Eden

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Footnotes

This is a poem I wrote after a situationship I was in turned sour. I had given the girl a pot-plant as a gift. Gift giving is a love language of mine and I put a lot of thought into the gifts I give people. She enjoyed having pets around while growing up so to fill the void I thought having a low maintenance plant to keep might be nice. She sent me random updates on how the plant was doing from time to time. She had even given it a name and gender. After things between us ended I began to wonder if she still cared for the plant and the idea of the plant dying inspired the writing of this poem.