The days are creative
The days are successful

I put my lot to bed
with a sigh

I tuck it in:
another successful day!
to add to the little pile

The days are successful
The pile is mounting

The washing’s in the freezer
The dinner’s in a book

The days are creative
The days are successful

The piano eyes me
from its corner –
colluding with the past
/ all those other plans

The days are creative
The days are successful

Paints are dusty
in the hall cupboard
Poems march around unborn

The days are successful
The pile is mounting

My daughter’s new spirit
has designs of its own
– nothing to do with me
– no excuse to hide behind

The days are creative
The days are successful

In haste I iron the floor
In haste (with tears) drop birdseed in the crockery
How many little lives depend on me!
What a successful day!

The hours are long
The hours are long
They whip round before you’re almost looking.

 

 

 

This poem is taken from Emily Critchley’s new book, Ten Thousand Things, published by Boiler House Press. 

Photograph © Gabrielle Ludlow

The Headless Woman
The File: Lost Then Found