CONFUSION
By Janice Veldman
The door bell rings
Answering it
I find mom holding
a birthday cake
She is drenched
from the pouring rain
Why are you here?
Because I am the one who
Always bakes the cake
Wondering how I might ask for whom it is
She blurts “don’t tell me you forgot
Something is wrong if birthdays
are no longer remembered”
I nod
puzzled
perhaps as confused as she
I ask if she recalls
how many are coming
Perturbed
she abruptly leaves
Later in the day
she phones with exciting news
of having been invited
to a birthday party