The Small Hours
Posted: 24 Nov 2017, 05:25
Small hours, misnomer of misnomers,
hours that seem to be unending,
hours of half-imagined traumas,
Or half-real ones. Time extending,
stalling, halting, seems to lock
playing with our senses, rending
it forever three o'clock,
all is moving in slow motion,
as if nothing can unblock
a blind alley, and the notion
of the day that lies ahead
rouses such a strange emotion ....
for, sometimes, these hours have led,
to odd calm and liberation
from things done, undone, said, unsaid ...
I would not call it contemplation,
nor perspective, yet some calm
harbour, some secluded station,
somewhere I can't come to harm
makes the small hours worth enduring,
and bitterness is turned to balm
For I have found the small hours mooring,
and it, somehow, is reassuring.
hours that seem to be unending,
hours of half-imagined traumas,
Or half-real ones. Time extending,
stalling, halting, seems to lock
playing with our senses, rending
it forever three o'clock,
all is moving in slow motion,
as if nothing can unblock
a blind alley, and the notion
of the day that lies ahead
rouses such a strange emotion ....
for, sometimes, these hours have led,
to odd calm and liberation
from things done, undone, said, unsaid ...
I would not call it contemplation,
nor perspective, yet some calm
harbour, some secluded station,
somewhere I can't come to harm
makes the small hours worth enduring,
and bitterness is turned to balm
For I have found the small hours mooring,
and it, somehow, is reassuring.