The day is done for others, but
I haven’t even started yet.
They stretch their backs,
They shoo their kids,
They plonk into their TV couch.
I haven’t even started yet
For that is sort of what I did
Throughout the day,
Throughout their day.
I pick the pen, I scratch my head,
I roll the pen between my teeth.
The laptop booting takes a while.
I type with pen between my teeth.
Within the minute I am sure
The lines are going nowhere good.
They take their writer’s life as guide.
I think about deleting them.
The nurse, whose shift has just begun,
Is here to make mistakes again.
“You have to rest.”
“It’s all I do.”
“The laptop’s on.”
“I see it too.”
“You have to rest.”
“I have to write.”
“The doctor scolds me.”
“My delight.”
She turns and stomps out. Then returns.
She’d left the clipboard on my bed.
“You have to rest.”
“I’ll do my best.”
She turns and drops the clipboard pen.
At least, she’s started with her day.
Minakhi Misra 