When I could draw a sun in the sky

Manahil Bandukwala

WHEN I COULD DRAW A SUN

by Manahil Bandukwala

I opt to run around fields breaking pots
instead of fighting monsters. I amass
an inventory of meat and birdseed, but not
enough fish, so when I scale a cat tower
the cats go hungry. The field has bridges and when
I tumble off, I swim all the way to the moon.
I race a child along a coast when it is winter for real
but it is always summer on the beach,
and clam shells always burst open
with treasure. I put off venturing north
for as long as I can, and spend most of my time there
fishing in ice and running from spirits. Night
stops being a worry when I can draw
a sun and bring back cherry blossoms. I lay down
brushstrokes, empty my ink pots and run
faster with the lightened load, to where
a flock of sparrows mooches off
dead grass. No one else in this field
has birdseed, not even the vender who sits
at the edge of a burning bridge
in a mask. There is no way he can return home
but he tells me he is here for anything
I might need. I need a new sword because
my old one has bite marks from when I thrashed
against some accidental spirits.

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MANAHIL BANDUKWALA is a Pakistani writer, editor, and visual artist from Karachi and currently based in Ottawa. She is the author of two chapbooks, Paper Doll (2019) and Pipe Rose (2018). She is on the editorial team of Canthius, a feminist literary magazine. She was longlisted for the 2019 CBC Poetry Prize, and was the 2019 winner of Room Magazine’s Emerging Writer Award. She is co-lead of Reth aur Reghistan, a literary-visual arts project that explores folklore from Pakistan, carried out alongside her sister, Nimra Bandukwala. See more at sculpturalstorytelling.com.

When I Could Draw a Sun can be found in Augur Magazine Issue 3.2.