When I Should Have Been Doing Something Else by Jill Evenson Abenth

I fancy myself
an appreciator
of natural things.
Yet.
That bird
emits a throat noise
indescribable
but what’s telling
is my inability
to locate
the name of that bird
in my lexicon.
The bush here,
just budding,
no scientific category
I can recall.
These rocks,
artfully arranged
as a river bed,
granite? sedimentary?
Forget Dr. What’s His Name,
the crazy van driver
who sustained contempt
a whole semester
of my failing to correctly answer
a single pop question
before recklessly
hurling us all
onto the hills
of prehistoric formations.
Forget Tony My Supervisor
who taught me
how to teach
about owls and deer,
to recognize
the cattails
along our river hike.
My education is no use.
Yet.
To my brain
my heart
my ears
my eyes
it makes no difference.