My father, the teacher,
would tell us about the flora and fauna
we would see as we passed,
often unasked.

I certainly don’t remember ever asking him
what kind of tree or flower
we were looking at.
I can’t imagine that being of particular interest.

Dad had a particular bug
that when he didn’t know a plant,
he’d identify it as a Mimosa.
I didn’t notice.
I don’t know what a Mimosa looks like
and, if you recall, I wasn’t too interested
in the identities of plants anyway.

But I liked the subterfuge, so I use it, too.
It works in more situations than Dad thought it would, though. “What kind of reptile is that?”
“Mimosa.”
“Which department were you hired by?”
“Oh, Mimosa!”
“What time is the movie?”
“Mimosa, of course.”

I don’t know if people are more gullible than they used to be, or if they’re never listening to me.