Late for Overtime
by Shannon P. Laws
As I recover from a concussion ( please visit my Go Fund Me to learn more ) I thought this week was a good time to explore the audio files I have accumulated on my phone over the year. Often inspiration strikes when I am away from a pen and paper and I can’t type the words quick enough into a note. Recording observations as RAW audio free verse poems are satisfying for me. Background sounds are incorporated into the piece which, I think, adds to the impromptu performance. Also, there is a desirable amount of light pressure to form a creative thought in one take.
The first one I present, “Late for Overtime”, was recorded September 16, 2017. I was working a double shift with a six-hour layover. That looks like a swing shift 2:00 p.m. to 10:30 p.m. then work the morning shift, 5:00 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. I was waiting for a carpool to pick me up 4:30 a.m. at the same place they dropped me off the day before. However, my ride was running late, so, I am late for overtime. It was that warm September morning, on the corner of Larrabee and somewhere, when inspiration hit me upside the head.
BTW, I open the Google links in Music Player for Google Drive. you can listen as you read if you want. Please let me know what you think.
https://drive.google.com/open?id=13_eoS1FBjViDN2yFSFBYuhOSWkaciG_d
I’m sitting on the curb on the corner of Larrabee
and some street I can’t see the sign for
It’s almost 5:30 in the morning and the sun
is just coming up over the cascades
Its paint brush is changing the sky from
a charcoal gray to a very, very dark blue
Fingernail moon is just misty just fuzzy,
right almost out of sight behind a thin layer of clouds
Cold rushes up over the hill
hits my back
It’s the evening
running
running west
Afraid of the light
afraid of the warmth
afraid of the sun
It’s always running
its always running west
away from the sun
The air was so still just a moment ago and now
after seeing that sliver of light over the hills
it picked up and it
rushes itself down the
ravine, towards the water
towards Bellingham Bay
It flosses the town in a silent scream
There’s sprinklers in the background and I’m wondering…
I’m wondering why I never sat on
a street corner
in my neighborhood
at 5;30 in the morning before
The sounds and the smells of the air
the change in the air—is refreshing!
It’s life!
It’s better than any season
because it happens every morning
The tall cedars dropping down with
their question mark branches
Look like a golden retriever’s tail
I know they’re hiding owls in there
Maybe they’re looking at me
watching me
wondering if I’ll scurry
across the street
turn in a mouse
At any moment the birds will wake up
The first bit of light will just hit the lids
of the sleeping birds
They’ll be the first to announce it—
It’s Saturday!
and Shannon is late for overtime at the mill
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shannon p. laws 