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1 poem
Erin Donohue

Erin Donohue is a writer and editor from Aotearoa, New Zealand. Her first novel was published in 2017 and was a finalist in the NZCYA Book Awards. She is currently working on a collection of personal essays.

working from home

time puddles around me. bleak and thick.

the seconds stretch on like warm chewing gum.


until they are minutes and the minutes stretch

on until they are hours. then suddenly: days.


i turn on tracked changes and add commas.

i fix spelling and pretend to be proficient on InDesign. 


i type my dumb little emails on my dumb little computer.

someone at work starts mindfulness mondays.


i take photos of the sky every evening.

even when the sky isn’t there.


i feed my cat every morning. her incessant but

politely restrained howls when i am late to wake.


i download an app that translates her different

meows into english. she says, i’m hungry.


she says, i’m hunting. she says, quietly,

i love you. i’m here. can you see me?


sometimes i stand outside and listen to the birds.

let the breeze bite at me. but mostly i dont.


i run for the same bus to therapy

every week and nearly miss it every week.


when i arrive

i try to coax myself into the room


but i don’t come when i am called.

not even for a treat. she says


what would you like to work on today?

and i watch from the door as i shrug.


she spends the hour trying to draw me

out of myself. i pay her too much money and leave.


i go to glassons, farmers, david jones.

dizzy with the urge to buy something new and


bright and good. and then

i go back home: to my simple little life.


where i sit and wait

for him to come home and make me real.

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