
Free Expression . Creative Spaces . Independent Voices
4.12 Open Water
My Evening Shift
Words by Sumyrah Khan
December 2021
Mind-wanderings from a treetop
Sometimes I sit atop a tree, right when the sun brings its synthesis to see things as they are and not as they should be.
Recluse strangers.
Unaware mingling.
Meanders going about their way.
To be forgotten for a while,
I disappear.
And a familiar state resumes
as moments begin to dissociate.
In those gaps I wonder:
Who has time to pace sanctity?
And give myself a few points for trying.
Just then, I overhear the cautionary tales being sung by an old man
as he points up at the sky
but he spots me instead.
It’s nighttime and the birds are back -
time to vacate their space.
They too are done with their shift with strangers for the day.
