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When I found out, almost by accident,
that I had inherited the world
—that it was precious, that I was
responsible for keeping it safe—

While you were watching the pretty pictures,
and drinking a perfectly innocent Pepsi-Cola
—your world, and that of your children

and their children, and the beasts of the fields,
and the green, green Earth itself,
had been stolen.

some still trying to have fun; some going downhill fast; some trying to balance on the fence
between irony and hope

looking around for a better position,
even while admiring the toughness of these homo
sapiens,
who seem capable of anything
but changing the way that they think.

Squatting softly in the cool, tea-colored water,
hearing my own breath move in and out,
leaning close to see the tattered, soft-edged
       purses of the flower
with their downward hanging cones and coppery antennae.

All those years I kept trying and failing and trying to find my one special talent in this life— Why did it take me so long to figure out that my special talent was trying?