For A Moment, I Almost Mistook It For Something Real

by Rachel Creager Ireland

What’s that you say, Voice In My Head,
between taking the kids to school
then the guinea pig to the vet
and the car to the shop
and prepping for a Brownie meeting
picking the kids up from school
and taking them to the Brownie meeting,
I don’t have time to stop
at that pond where the sun is coming up
over the water and mist is rising
to dance in the gauzy light,
because if I can’t possibly do everything,
I can’t possibly do one more thing as well,
not even gaze for a briefest moment at
shifting light and vapor. It passes
faster than the click of the camera in my hand.
Voice In My Head: go to hell.
I’ve already been, I’m not going back.
But don’t worry, I’ll wait for you
right here.