Poem: Stagnated Time – 01/05/21

The minutes seem so long,
the second-hand drags like
fingernails in sand and broken glass,
I’m impatient to know the answer,
but I’m terrified to even ask.

Tell me, what point is there
in waiting,
in watching the vapour of my breath
cloud my vision, obscure with fog?
The truth we will discover yet.
I refuse to beg or sob.

Ache not for the present, but recall tremors from the past,
patiently, patiently, 
in due course, 
is it right to ask?

I shall not flounder in my need, 
in my desire to know, 
better still lay the questions down to rest,
I have no right to request, 
nor you any obligation to let me know. 

Would functionality take over
if the seconds were given a chance
to catch up with each other, 
suddenly, a minute seems too fast. 
The seconds trip and fall on one another, 
clumsily, then altogether.

(c) 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Photo by Logan Armstrong on Unsplash

Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose Home


Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s