"Another Bildungsroman" by Suzanne Buffam

I finally got Suzanne Buffam's book Past Imperfect. I got it for Christmas, actually, from my mom who plucked it off of my Amazon wish list (thanks, Mom!). This is my favorite poem from it.

Another Bildungsroman

I grow up and leave home.
Fall in all kinds of love, none the wiser.
Now it's time, as they say, to move forward.
I gather all the loose change in the house,
find I have amassed a small fortune.
At the bank, waiting to speak with a teller,
I read a pamphlet that informs me
how much larger my small fortune
could have been by now if only.
I decide, instead, to go to France.
I take a little room on the Rue de Seine,
get lost at Versailles, fail to befriend
the handsome waiter at Café Crème.
When I get back it's late fall, the pool
in the park is locked up, clogged with leaves.
Squirrels, hard-wired for the future,
are burying nuts in the threadbare lawn.
Wind comes down the mountain with a rose in its teeth.
There are gaps in the sky the sky fills in with sky.

(Suzanne Buffam, from Past Imperfect, Anansi Press 2005)

Buffam's new book, The Irrationalist, comes out April 1 (no joke!), which is only 8 days before my birthday (hint, hint).