What Mary Oliver was lucky enough to have learned in her early years:

"First . . . one can rise early in the morning and have time to write (or, even, to take a walk and then write) before the world's work schedule begins. And . . . one can live simply and honorably on just about enough money to keep a chicken alive. And do so cheerfully." (from A Poetry Handbook by Mary Oliver, p. 120)

As a mother, running a household, I interject.

· Early to rise means early to bed. Early to bed means leaving much unfinished.

· Insomnia, anxiety, whatever things one might take pills for in the evenings, lets one drift through alarm clock warnings.Waking up late pisses on one’s chances for “cheerful.”

· Rising early for alone time requires silence that’s near-to-impossible to pull off in an apartment or an old creaky house. If one has a dog, the dog will always wake no matter how quiet one is; it will whimper to be let out to pee as one makes coffee.

· More often “early to rise” only means the other work starts sooner. To-do lists find one easily, first thing (as one has often planned it) and so kills one’s inspiration. Even without the penned to-do lists, the washer and dryer – which have sat quietly all night – seem now to whisper nasty things about wrinkles and mildew.

· Some kids – even teenagers – are naturally early risers, and they steal one’s writing devices to check their Facebook and play music videos. And toddlers have a lot to do in the mornings that requires one’s undivided attention (like sitting on the potty).

· To walk before the sun's up would mean one would need to carry a flashlight and an effective protective device and a cell phone because the world has mostly succeeded at convincing one that the world is dangerous and one is truly vulnerable.

· Work commutes mean out the door very early. Drives steal one’s otherwise personal time. It’s hard to take notes while driving, and kids lose things like hand-held recording devices.

· Sometimes, one has to live on just enough money to keep several chickens alive. All these chickens must be clothed and feed and taught to live within the fence line.

· "Enough to feed a chicken" means qualifying for free lunches and welfare and accepting handouts when they're given. Teenagers wear the stigmas that come along with such things burned into their foreheads.

· And the Writing Pen is often unruly and asks more and more of a mother as a writer and, meanwhile, back in reality, things pile up when one has been elsewhere, lost in words and stories and visions. All of those piled up things have a way of reshuffling one’s direction, over and over again. Alas, one's morning walk is a complication.

· The barnyard is demanding. This one doesn’t like playing rooster. And writing can makes one feel more like a dirty fox with dark intentions - a time stealer.



Mary, not this one on this day or any near day in the future.

For now, all I have are my damn sweet, late evenings.