Time Out

At nine in the morning,
I settled myself down, on a
Dan’s spending the day
with Serinya kind of day
this unrequested, unexpected
freedom kind of day…
I settled down in my evening spot,
my after Dan’s gone to bed spot—
end of the day spot.
And then I knew I wanted this
to be a me day. Since
the day Dan was born day
there hadn’t been a me day,
but I’m not entirely sure
what to do with a me day anymore.
Once they’d been abundant—
obliterated all other days.
Though they were me and Lee days
now my days are Dan days.
Dan days, work days, playing the game days,
playing the game and towing the line days…
Sitting on the balcony, rocking:
the morning light already bleaching the day,
rocking in the chair, not a rocking chair
no rockers on this chair
just a wonky kind of leg chair,
two legs cut too short chair,
rocking anyway chair.
Colonial creamy yellow
colouring the wall there
filling up my vision as I stare from the chair there
fiddling with a rizla in my wonky legged chair.
The me kind of day becomes hazy in a way
as I roll the paper neatly
and burn the end away
inhale the smoke deeply
watch the ash drift away.


More about this poem
This poem was written from personal experience but conceived with the idea of a specific voice in mind. Here a mother has an unexpected day of freedom: no child, no work. I tried to use the repetition to show how her mind is overworking, thinking about how she should spend the day but also to reflect being stuck in the world of children and motherhood with the repetition reminiscent of that in children’s books.
© Ammie-oy 2010


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