When You Live Between the Hands of a Clock

When you live between the hands of a clock

The tick becomes a background noise you learn to live with

A reminder of where you have been,

Where you are,

And where you are going

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And with every tick, a gear turns,

Collecting seconds

Collecting minutes

Collecting hours

Until it can’t collect more

When you live between the hands of a clock

Time becomes something you collect too

Just like the fireflies you would catch at age 5

Or

Sumertime smiles that will never die

When you live between the hands of a clock

You can lie down in the blank spaces

And look at what has already passed

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When you live between the hands of a clock

You can’t blink and miss

The hand that's passing by