begonias: before & after

A Charm

I have developed superstitions:
if the Eiffel tower is sparkling
its final sparkling
when I’ve reached the window at the top,
eight floors up,
after a night of empty mediocrity;
it’s good luck.

It has been sparkling upon my arrival for
three days in a row, now –
I smile quietly –
but my little pink begonia, Evangeline,
is still dying.

I tried putting her right in the window
today, but her frail petals still furl, and
fall; veiny and beige,
like those letters that school-children
try to make old-looking
by staining them with tea
and putting them in the oven.

I am a bad mother.