Visiting the Widow

I gathered my ferns in my arms and carried them to the widow
She was blind but when she felt my face and heard my voice she knew it was me
Take these ferns and put them by the window, I said
The widow ran her fingers up and down the spore-flecked fronds
Oh it has been a long time, the widow said, her eyes filling with tears
I am ashamed to have forgotten about ferns