Forgetting

Over time I have forgotten 

That daisies come in several different varieties, 

Some tall, some really short; 

Some that bloom earlier, or later, 

Or show off lots more petals or larger centers 

Than the ones that now are languishing 

Beneath my plum tree 

(Is this their natural cycle, 

To grow brown and lie down, 

As if their backs all hurt too much to stand, 

Or are they dying because I forgot to water them?) 

I’ve forgotten other things as well, 

But would rather have forgotten 

The things that wake me, 

Or still can make me cry: 

Man’s inhumanity to man, woman, and child; 

The yips of the coyotes as they feast;

The shrieks of the forest as it burns…