The clock has always been my nemesis
Ticking away my minutes
Without a second thought
Leaving me scurrying
Collecting myself off hooks and floor
Trying to race out the door
On a newly waxed floor
Inevitably I leave everything I need
Chasing after time
My white rabbit
Tripping over my thoughts
Catching me in traffic of sentences
Leaving me trying to make it out the door
With the spare minutes
I scramble to catch first thing in the morning
Before the clock notices
And steals them back
Poetic Trials 