You forget
how the clouds
enthralled you.
How the wind
kept you
guessing which
little part of
you might get
caught in its hands
and taken
for a reason
that’ll
keep you
guessing.
You forget
how the rain
washed you
without
asking for a
penny
in return.
How the shade
dappled your
skin so
nicely and
gently
despite the
lack of
gratitude
you offer.
You remember
only the burns
and the bites
and stings
and things
that you
make bigger
than that which
is pleasant.
You have yet
to discover
the beauty
of the
non-toothache.
The beauty
of pleasant
moments without
anything extraordinary.