In Lyn Hejinian's "My Life", time plays an important, recurring role in her poems. The very beginning of the first poem speaks of a purple moment when Father returns home from war. The narrator says that moments used to be colored, but they are no longer. "So much of childhood is spent in a manner of waiting" (page 9). Time lines trail behind every idea, object, person, pet, vehicle and event, and it seems more normative than place. According to the narrator, "what follows a strict chronology has no memory" (page 16). As such, memory also recurs throughout this collection as an addition to the theme of time, and all memories are gripping thoughts.