oh, i know;

oh, i know.

i let the hours pass.

one after the other.

they passed
and in their passing
they no longer were hours.

they became other measures.

wine, music.

a bit of this and that.

i let them pass with no words between them.

i watched them go,
in the blind spot
of my attention span.

i figured they needed a rest.

but they did not.

they yearned for recognition.

they wanted to be used.


made good.

so i took all the hours back.

i lay them down side by side.

i gave them fresh sheets, soft pillows.

they became a minute –

one long minute
of sacred silence
for lost time,
found again.

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