Apology to my indoor succulent plant
You have roots curling in brown water and need to be potted. But I enjoy the way western sunlight shines on your petals and even the brown water glistens.
Apology to my cat
I have to step over you or around you and often I trip on the red rug I crocheted for you. I am clumsy sometimes and need to practice my balance.
Apology to my office
You serve a purpose and yet I often ignore you because the computer beckons me to write and do bills.
Apology to my rocking chair
You comforted me in my teen years and I took you to my college dorm. I brought you to Arizona and you warmed me as I rocked my young son into sleep. Yet now, I use you to hold my scarves and haven't sat on your cushion in years.