(based on suggestions from @quadelle, @realnixwilliams, @facelikethunder, @ernmalleyscat, @sarahhazelton, @jellyjellyfish, @pinknantucket and @spikelynch)
Dawn is a sharp blue pencil
drawing veins on the outside.
Cat claws pierce embarrassment
I lash out with pink fury.
Butcherbirds cleave dreams
into portions. They note down
grey cuts of consciousness.
The clock says I can stay here.
I have nothing to draw me this day,
my three small loves are quiet.
By my bed, trains trace on paper.
Travel along coloured lines to
memories of my future. On Monday
voices will chirp from the next room;
there will be so many pyjamas.
I’ll trade polar fleece for coffee and
hope to walk small dogs. Maybe even make
the primary parade sans flannel by nine.
There are children to bring forwards.
Little chapter books, they stumble
over new words. I write them upwards,
calm their question marks. Help turn
the page to their own next episodes.
Today’s poem is based on suggestions from eight peeps (a record!):
- @quadelle: “Kids.”
- @realnixwilliams: “chilly air and a blue sky!”
- @facelikethunder: “As a teacher I feel like each day is the next chapter; I'd hate to miss out on what happens.”
- @ernmalleyscat: ” This chap is what often wakes me up in the morning. So you have to include Cracticus torquatus in y” (grey butcherbird)
- @sarahhazelton: “coffee. And hope. In that order. also: the knowledge that smalldog needs walking. in conclusion: #literalmind”
- @jellyjellyfish: “have a Tube map stuck next to bed. when 'friends & family' doesn't work, remembering that I want to go back to
- @pinknantucket: “My cat poking me with his claws out.”
- @spikelynch: having no appointments on a Saturday. I have three kids, and tomorrow is the first empty Saturday since Christmas.
Last night I asked for reasons to get out of bed in the morning. (Reasons other than ‘habit’!) Sometimes it’s good to hear reasons to live said out loud.