An inadvertent life
By Phaedrus
Published: April 21, 2013
Updated: April 24, 2013

An inadvertent life



I sometimes
sit a morning
in the gardens
of the city park.
I doze, I dream;
and dreaming, shed
if only for a moment
the imperfections
and impediments
of an inadvertent life.

You should have
died at birth,
my father said,
though his meaning
has always been
unclear to me.
Perhaps I should have
pressed him
for an explanation
while I could.

But now I doze,
and dream,
and watch the children
at their play;
and watching, suffer the
suspicion, the muttered
imprecations,
that vigilance these days
seems to demand.

There are limits
to endurance, of course,
so after a while I clamber
to my feet and hobble
from the gardens.
Perhaps next week Iíll give
the gardens a miss,
since regularity
and inadvertence
do not travel well together.

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