Pop Ups Poem by Mehreen Mujeeb

The cresent moon behind the faraway tree,
Was smiling at another galaxy.

The dark grey clouds had the blues,
The sky in second place was traveling a floral cruise.

Just one star there was in that sky,
But it did not smile although it was high.

It was plotting some plan with distant lightning in a distant cloud,
Maybe scheming about how they would stitch my shroud.

The sky is like a translucent shadow of my mind,
Only parts it shows with others to find.

It's one thing to not feel or think,
Another to not know if you'll float or sink.

At times when I try to ponder,
I end up lost in wander.

So much sand in my eyes to make me sleep,
The sand turns to mud when I dream too deep.

Through these years I've grown so cold,
In my own chest I fold.

Captured in self-made fences,
Which constrict so many of my senses.

Trapped between my shadows and my reflections,
Confiding in darkness to avoid these elections.

The sky is still beautiful.