Start Time: 4:02
Too many emails make me angry,
but quiet email makes me nervous,
so attached am I to nearly instantaneous results.
No morning email from my husband?
Why certainly, he must be dead!
No funny jokes from friends?
They must all hate me now. I bet
they all skipped work, to talk about me.
No response from colleagues on work turned in?
I’m being fired,
finally recognized as the fraud I am.
Logic, reason, rational –
go out the window when my email quiets down,
so used am I to seeing that little, yellow
envelope flash throughout the day,
and in an instant I’m transported
back, once again the lonely girl
on the playground,
not invited to play kickball, Red Rover or
even house –
the degrees, the make up, the husband, the hair –
even the truth of my happiness-
the things I swath around me,
to protect me from that other girl –
they fall away
every time I come to this moment –
all my work, out in the world, and me –
in my office on the sixth floor,
looking out the window.
watching the second snowfall of the season,
awaiting that flashing yellow envelope
to tell me,
I can stay and play a little while longer.