Forgiveness

I forgot to open my eyes when I woke up
and I went a day without sun.

Baby, baby, baby,
you missed the park, they said
and the balloons from all of those birthday parties.

Everyone grew up while I was sleeping.
Was it fun, at least?

I asked you if I enjoyed it,
if I was smiling in the dark
or lying in the grass.

You said you couldn’t pay attention for me.

So, I forgive you for leaving.
You were blocking the wind that woke me up.