circadian memo

 

And all through the house
Not a creature was stirring…
But for the clock.

In my room,
Darkened, low light,
Clawing tree branches
Stars, city smites

I glance up and wonder,
Then in came a shock
A minute to the hour
Read the old old clock

11:59
The day about to die
Life to live no longer
Completely out of time

And the hands of fate inched closer
To a zenith of middling degree
Seconds pass, then a whisper
Of a day’s soul set free

But only for a moment,
Caught in inter-day-mensional bliss
For a forcibly arranged marriage
To the new day it did kiss

The clock struck twelve,
The famous witching hour
“And on to another day”
He muttered to himself with a glower

For though the word day means sunshine and light
You must remember: the day starts,
In the middle
Of the night.