napping

I read a lot of poetry, mostly on the Writers Almanac and Poetry Daily. Once in awhile I find a poem that really hits home :

Afternoon Nap
for Stuart and Ali



The dishes washed, the plates stacked
Neatly in their cupboards, he scooped up a section
Of the Sunday paper and slipped into the lounge,
His belt stretched around a second slice of cake.

He dozed off over the picture of a scoring hero
And came to again at four, the house quiet,
And brightness gone from the sky. He felt weak,
Knowing that this day was done, or wasted,

And thought about his school, how they
Used to run for miles around a grass track
And never get tired. He thought of friends
Who had fallen into ambition, success

And failure. He should have written letters
But didn't. What was it that he had wanted,
Running around that circle? What would
He now say he had missed? Nothing. He felt

That day's paper slip from his hands,
His muscles loosen, and lids close over eyes
That still stared into the near-dark garden
Where small birds flitted about unnoticed.



James W. Wood


Southwest Review
Volume 93, Number 2 / 2008


James W. Wood


James W. Wood is the author of two short collections, Swingtime and The Theory of Everything. He reviews regularly for Scotland on Sunday and lives in Edinburgh. Poems, articles, and reviews have also appeared in The Times Literary Supplement, The Daily Telegraph, Poetry Review, The London Magazine, and many others. "Afternoon Nap" is included in a chapbook, Inextinguishable, published by Knucker Press.