Daily Life by Susan Wood

A lot of people have been writing, asking if I’m okay. The past month has kept me silent, or, at least, writing in the dark, away from the world, away from you. Here’s the truth: I’m not. I almost walked away from this.

Daily Life
Susan Wood

A parrot of irritation sits
on my shoulder, pecks
at my head, ruffling his feathers
in my ear. He repeats
everything I say, like a child
trying to irritate the parent.
Too much to do today: the dracena
that’s outgrown its pot, a mountain
of bills to pay and nothing in the house
to eat. Too many clothes need washing
and the dog needs his shots.
It just goes on and on, I say
to myself, no one around, and catch
myself saying it, a ball hit so straight
to your glove you’d have to be
blind not to catch it. And of course
I hope it does go on and on
forever, the little pain,
the little pleasure, the sun
a blood orange in the sky, the sky
parrot blue and the day
unfolding like a bird slowly
spreading its wings, though I know,
saying it, that it won’t.

4 Comments

  1. I really can relate to this poem. I can relate to the feeling of walking away from it all. The blog. From everyone. From life, almost. I don’t know you, but I hope the best for you.

  2. Thanks for coming back. This is the only blog for which I receive email notifications when something new has been posted.

  3. Glad to see a new post. I was just reading an article in the NYT about quiet, restorative places to go in Manhattan, away from the noise; and I realize this blog is one of those places on the net, for me. Thank you for staying.

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