OctPoWriMo, Day 30 (Poem 27)


Flip Clock

Sometimes I miss my grandmother’s old flip-clock
That sat perfectly centered on the white crocheted doily
On her bedside table,
And how at 11:11, I would hold my breath and wish
Until the soft flutter of the numbers turning over,
Like a closed door, like a turned page, like something new.

Now, I watch the glowing LED.
The numbers cast my room with a sickly glow,
And at 11:11, I hold my breath and wish.

Time slips silently by, one moment to the next.

I keep holding my breath.

This was written for the number prompt during OctPoWriMo.

Today is a day of pretty substantial catching up; I’ve had poems 27 and 28 already written for a few days now, I just haven’t had an opportunity to post, and poem 29 is nearly finished (but not quite).  I’m hoping to get all four out today and be officially caught up.

This has been a crazy month creatively, and I’m a little nervous about delving into NaNoWriMo on Thursday having had no real time to prep, but hey.  I pantsed for years – twice I won with the pantsing method (like, thirteen times I lost, but let’s… let’s just not right now, okay?)

Author: Jessica Cross

Writer, maker, geek, feminist, mom. Not necessarily in that order.

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