Attention
Deficit
Disorder

A poem by
Margaret Ellis Hill

mimics standing on the edge
of some catastrophe
the kitchen is on fire
the edge of stupid decisions
I wanted that new fur coat
on the edge of slitting a wrist
this headache must be a migraine
that edge of a divorce
so you are taking the couch too
the chance to say the right words
I love you John
or burying oneself in an overdose
I'm locking myself in my office No calls
of work turning the mind into a split level flat
where is the G file and the letter to John
complete with stairs that go nowhere
Maybe I need to go home to Mom
that edge of mind-clutter aided by
her telling me over and over
it's gray-blankets and rain

through my office window,
an edge of light finds an open place
in the pasture across the street
illuminates delicious shades of green
chartreuse apple forest cypress
on a row of trees as if through a filter
a photographer uses on a camera
then a space widens to view sunset
clouds swirled in colors of lime cream
and raspberry sherbet Although the trees
become skeletons at the edge of twilight
look how branches mimic arms
that have no choice but to reach skyward

copyright 2006 by Margaret Ellis Hill