2013,  Uncategorized

22:49

It’s late
22:36 says my ipad clock
I’m sat
Just outside
My back door
The flat is dark
Trains squeal
Something I never
Notice in the day.
The sky is
Inky
Blue
Yet
At the same
Time
It’s almost
Black
With a
Somewhat
Harsh
Orange
Streetlight glow
A dog barks
Car door
Slams
And
Occasionally
But only
Occasionally
Cars go past
On the
Main road
Unseen from
Here
But their
Presence
Is
Known

22:41
Now
And the
Gentle breeze
Caresses my skin
I’ve cooled
Down
Way down
Much more
Than I
Thought
I would
Wish I
Could
Stay here
All night

No one
Is around
One of my
Upstairs
Neighbours has
The TV
On low
The
Other just
Shut a window
Or something
The clunk thump
Of something
Shutting
Closing in
People
And
Closing out
The world
At 22:45
The end of
The day

But still
I
Sit
Here
In an
Unexpected
Haven
Strange how
Peaceful it
Feels
When I
Can hear so
Much.

Upstairs
Cutlery clinks
I think of
My Gran
Laying the
Breakfast table
Right before
Bed

My thoughts
Once
Racing
Slow down
And I make
Myself move

22:49
Time
For
Bed

2 Comments

  • Amanda

    Emma, what a refreshing, poignant, pretty poem. I really connected with the narrator in here (whom I assume is you 😉 ). Great use of imagery to convey your feelings of wonder, awareness, and solitude. I think everyone could relate to these feelings at some point in their lives.
    Well-done! BTW, I am a fellow writer with a disability (TBI). Nice to meet you, and thanks for sharing your work.

  • MARK WILSON

    Emma, I’m Mark, friend and I’m pleased to say, now employee, of Huw Thomas’s at Promove. I think you may have discovered the Blog on the website and I’ve just added some comments to Huw’s latest posting. Intro over, other than to say I share an experience of disability with Huw and yourself, a lifetime experience and its been a fair old journey.

    I loved 22.49

    I didn’t even read it as a poem. Instead I simply found myself transported to a quiet place somewhere in my past, way way back to Boarding School days when during my fresher term at the then only UK specialist boarding school for physically disabled boys aged 11-16, I spent many a miserable Sunday afternoon in an empty Common Room, listening to silence punctuated by the odd bit of noise. Sometimes short, sharp voices from across the Quad. Sometimes noise from the dual carriageway a long way off but on a still day the rumble of HGVs was still to be heard. Sometimes just the rustle of trees outside our “House” somehow breaking through the stillness. I can absolutely recall the passage of short periods of time, longer than 13 minutes but rarely more than 30. It was clock watching & so like your journey to 22.49, except journeys end was often not sleep but a reset of the clock. Strangely, after a lot of Sundays like this things got better, I got stronger and five years later I emerged ready to flex my tin legs and wooden arm in anger, unphased by name calling and bullying, determined and surprisingly happy. But those journeys to 22.49 stayed with me and even last year on holiday I left my gorgeous wife sleeping and wandered out into the Spanish night and lay on the grass in our Villa and just listened to the noisy silence for 30 minutes….it felt exactly as you wrote. Cheers, Mark

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