Peace Lily

Every week the fungus grows
Your shiny leaves droop
Flowers fall like half-timbered trees.
Doomed—unless I douse you with
Vinegar, garlic, and soap-infused H20
Wait 24 hours. Rinse you with the hose.
Hauling your pot from house to outdoor sink
To pump-connected hose. Back indoors.
Wearisome, this, the unending fight.
Somedays, in my laziness, I’m tempted
to simply quit. Let you die.
What does that say about me?
My soul also needs fungicide.