for dirt clods on the kitchen floor, for not remembering birthdays
or to scrub the pine sap off patio chairs before barbeques.
“Well, you know, she’s an artist,” people will say.
I can see millimeters of new growth on a fallen manzanita
from twenty paces and single blades of grass waving across the yard
but somehow two sets of muddy cat prints tracked across
the bathroom counter between perfume bottles and toothbrushes
are beyond my scope.
R. Goularte ~ 2007
