The screen lights my face
Reflecting the curated world
Scrolling, scrolling, scrolling
Your hand on my sleeve, then on my face
Your voice reflecting a child’s request
Tugging, tugging, tugging
I turn away, pulling the screen to my chest
My peace broken, I add to the disturbance
Yelling, yelling, yelling
You turn away and drop your creation
Broken bits of pride scattering on the floor
Falling, falling, falling
The sound of escape pings
The sound of reality heavily sighs with slumped shoulders and sits in front of the TV, turning on a show it’s seen before
The feel of escape vibrates
The feel of reality punches the gut with the realization that time should be given to a small hand and not a small hand held device
I am all thumbs, fumbling,
dropping the screen
dropping down next to you
Putting my face in front of your face
Seeing, listening, loving
An “early” post (at least for me!) for Sadje’s What Do You See #51 picture prompt. The picture above sent my mind in two directions. This is probably the first time I worked on two poems at the same time! I’ll post my second poem after this one.
This picture intrigued me because of the hands. The one on the table seemed desperate, as if reaching the hour glass was a final act. As someone who is chronically late, I can say that time and I are not friends. I thought that being at home and not having outside obligations due to the pandemic would gift me a lot of time to write and run and do all the other things that I told myself I would do if “I had more time.”
That hasn’t been the case.
Time seems to be going faster despite the fact that all the days are blending together. From the time I wake up to when I go to bed (which is pretty late), I’m on the “go” while staying at home. And since all the kids are at home with me, I am acutely aware of how much time I am spending on activities that I would have usually gotten done while they are in school, versus the time and attention I am giving to them during the day. Some times it’s more or less even, some days it’s weighted to one side.
I am that hand on the table, grasping for more time yet knowing it will be taken away from me and never returned.
©️ 2020 iido