Tuesday, March 26, 2024

Graveyard Shift on the Geriatric Ward - March 24 2024

 

Graveyard Shift on the Geriatric Ward

March 24 2024


On the night shift

the air's cooler

the lights dimmed.


The darkness is almost viscous;

there’s a thickness, padding through it

that seems to slow things down.


Time drags.

Nothing happens fast.

And in the preternatural quiet

even I feel relaxed,

despite the hyper-vigilance

I can’t seem to shake.

I love the solitude

even though I’m not alone,

moving among the residents

asleep in their beds.


Is there something unwholesome

about people like me?

The night people

who flinch from the light,

prefer their own company,

are fine

alone with their thoughts.


Especially the early hours,

before the sky’s first softening

when it’s not quite dawn.

The work done,

sleep soon to come,

and thoughts of the early shift

jerked from their dreams

bleary-eyed and groggy,

jangling alarm clocks

going off by their ears.


I lean back, and let my eyes drift shut.

No one tut-tutting

my slacking off;

no one

standing over me to judge.


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