Green Hills Literary Lantern





on the timeline, I’m a map of wrong turns

detours—15, should have buried myself in computers

like my friends, at seventeen, should have buried myself in schoolwork,

taken advantage of my early college admittance, at nineteen

my father asks, you still think you’re going to be

an astronaut? at twenty, lectures on how

real writers spend eight hours a day writing, not three

twenty-one, my boyfriend asks me how I can justify

spending so much money on postage to

send out manuscripts when I don’t have anything

in the fridge.


I hear myself giving speeches on missed chances

to my children, to a son almost out of the house and I

know I’ve heard these lectures somewhere before, I hear myself tell my daughter

about how once upon a time all I wanted out of life was to

someday push an ice cream cart at the zoo

have a big, fat orange cat like the one sitting in my lap

children who loved me, and I think,

no, that’s not exactly true.



Holly Day is a housewife and mother of two living in Minneapolis, Minnesota who teaches needlepoint classes for the Minneapolis school district and writing classes at The Loft  Literary Center. Her poetry has recently appeared in Borderlands, Slant, and The Tampa Review, and she is the 2011 recipient of the Sam Ragan Poetry Prize from Barton College. Her most recent published books are Walking Twin Cities and Notenlesen für Dummies Das Pocketbuch.