Praying for a minute more
as I stare at my watch.
Maybe if I look harder,
I can hinder time.

1.
At night, with my hand behind my head,
its whispering metronome
lulls me to sleep,
continuous like the white noise of some undiscovered beach.

2.
In the apartment, as I pass by the stairs,
the bourdon note of the hour's routine chime
hides in the corner
like a child meeting a stranger for the first time,
clinging to its mother.

3.
In the classroom, on the wall,
it lingers like a ******.
Everywhere, I am followed
by its piercing gaze.

4.
In the room, on the bed stand,
assertive in the light of the rising sun,
as reliable as a royal guard.
Cold and unfeeling.
I am obligated to obey.

5.
In my body, behind the gilded cage of my ribs,
it tangos in step
with my pulsating heart.
Every second winds the battery down.
Tangible,
yet why can't I feel it?

6.
In the train station,
it keeps a record of our coming and going,
sees us float like specters across spotless tile.
How many wanderers will it see before it breaks?
Perhaps it is our guardian angel,
silently waiting for us to be late.

7.
On the sundial, in the crumbling heat of mid-afternoon,
it remains unreliable.
The sky makes its own hours.
With clouds come the pause of time.