Forgetfulness

July 8

I found an English garden all about me—

Peach trees in blossom,

Cut grass,

A cheerful disposition of colors and textures.

A sigh escaped my lips.

I heard a sound and froze in my tracks,

Wriggled through a gap in the fence.

Here goes . . . !

Had an impulse to run away.

A plan of action finally jelled in my mind:

keep quiet.

I had to laugh when I saw who my opponent was:

a cat with a monotone coat.

All that trouble for nothing.

I ate one peach,

Paused to clear my throat, then proceeded,

Life being very short, and the quiet hours of it few.

Then I remembered that today is your birthday.

Sniffed the lilacs,

Took a deep breath—

Moist, cool, soft grass growing underfoot,

Dusk verging into night.

I see what seems to be a dead tree—

Xylophagous fungi.

You can’t win them all.

Today I accomplished zero.


Source: The American Heritage Dictionary