Working twilight

The contrast between the cedars and sky disappears

Everybody bone weary and near tears

In a state between work and leisure

Grabbing snitches of pleasure

Not having to watch the clock

To know work hour mocks

The house knows alarm clock hell draws near

Its rhythm is very clear

The refrigerator humming in time to the clock

Waiting for somebody to become overwrought 

When they can’t find something quick to make for tomorrows lunch

The dryer full of clothes jumbled and scrunched.

A bird tweets at the top of the chimney flue

I hold myself back from calling you

I’m not afraid of birds I tell myself

As long as one doesn’t fly down the chimney and land on the shelf

Eyes begin to burn

And minds no longer learn

Plans for evening projects laid aside

Flying in the face of pride

The house creaks once as the clock strikes eight

A tension arises about the children’s slate

A parent settles the issue of which one is right

Tomorrow comes before we’ve said goodbye to the twilight. 

Janet Bellinger

C 2006