Peripetia, or Flowers for Everyone
How difficult it is to love the stupid
in ourselves, not to mention the shortcomings
of others. Each time I stumble from
a pair of platform shoes, how clumsiness
surprises! I'm astonished - even worse,
appalled - every time a shiny SUV
insists on jumping out in front of me.
How slow I am to understand the obvious!
I'm going outside now to gather calla lilies.
How strange it might be if I still had the brains
of a twenty-something Ph.D.-in-training.
The red ones I've been growing. And memory,
what a laugh, stuck between experience
and precognition - middle of a road
where no one wants to be. What a load
of magic beans that is. I mean, that is, disdain
for the middle of the road, not the precognition.
I know I won't remember what I said tomorrow.
Now I'm up a tree, climbed it with thorough
joie de vivre. Tell me, did you ever get the lilies?
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Comments about this poem (Peripetia, or Flowers for Everyone by C.J. Sage )
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