This poem is based on the events of New Year’s Day 2006 – one of the hottest Sydney days on record!
Sometimes poems appear like rare butterflies; you have to swiftly capture them or they fly away again. A poet friend of mine has been known – in the absence of a notebook – to ‘catch’ a poem on the back of a cornflake packet. I am lucky to have had this experience myself; an idea comes into my head and flows via the pen or keyboard into a first draft of a poem on the page. It is hard not be pleased with yourself when you create something that didn’t exist before – especially if it contains an original idea. First drafts are often the most fun to write, with the highest reward-to-effort ratio. But then comes revision.
I plucked a fleck of lint
from your grey lapel
in a polite sort of way
that day in my office.
Resolution # 1 was to write more. When I made it, I realised it could only be accomplished by resolution #2. I doubt that there has been a woman who lay on her deathbed wishing she had done more about the house. My mother certainly didn’t wish she had, and she would know; she made a career of it. So if this was to be the year I would spend less time doing chores, the problem was, how?