Stretching tall, they think they have the right 
to smell my leaves, pluck my buds, shatter me 
onto their chests to linger with my oil for an hour. 

Stretching tall, I am the foolish first to crisp 
in the sun’s unforgiving wake, relentless 
boil. Without our bubble, all blooms burn black. 

She detests my proximity, a true Solitary 
that socializes only with mirror lives scarring 
all they touch. I entwine with my rosemary cousin. 

Shrinking small, I try to spread vines like cousin does, 
cover cold earth for relief from the sweating sickness 
but she sends her two-legged lovers to trample me. 

Shrinking small, they slip through the busted fence 
that once shielded my own little corner of the world 
and, upon sniffing their shoes, destroy me just the same. 

Silver winner of this contest: https://allpoetry.com/contest/2830724-National-Poetry-Month-April-1st-noguest