10/23/09 Patricia A. Hawkenson’s Reflections – Like Nobody’s Business – I Have Used Up My Allotment of Pixie Dust
Like Nobody’s Business
She could blame the caffeine
or the thousand and one
details and unmade decisions
that follow her
home from work
waking her up
at 3:07 to throw off
covers and expectations
of a good night’s sleep,
but she doesn’t.
She just stumbles
to the bathroom,
closing her eyes again
to the glare of the light,
only a sliver
squeezing through
while cupping her hands
trying to sip enough
to swallow an aspirin.
She lay back down,
dreams beginning
to slide again
into distorted cubicles
and his accusation
that work
is
her life.
When the alarm finally rings,
its sharpness
reawakens that throbbing headache,
and she finds only a dribble
of relief
rolling onto the coolness
of his side of the sheet.
She could blame him
for her pain
and her thirst,
but she doesn’t,
faulting only her skillful fingers,
unable to catch water
or men.
I Have Used Up My Allotment of Pixie Dust
Talking frogs
and levitating children
danced with mushrooms
in my imagination.
Fanciful sojourns
to mystical places
could hold me
spell bound
for hours at a time.
Then I grew
too busy for books,
my hands caught up
in other tasks.
Untethered,
I have flown
into the place
where exertion
and exhaustion
collide.
If a floating lady
with a sparkling wand
wants to make me
sleep for a thousand years,
then let her.
