3:12.....

3:12, 3:13
just me and the clock
my words aren't quite working
but i've no reason to stop

i'm wrapped in a sweater
curled up on the floor
bathing in sunlight
with time to explore

sun seeps through the silence
and fills up the space
of my slow moving wednesday
and lazy clock face

my books are quite different
they're now orchards of words
and the shadows from sunlight
are dancing like birds

the curtains blow gently
like a sunday parade
in a small southern town
where they drink lemonade

the cross on my necklace
sways in the breeze
that is quite like the sound
of the wind in the trees

words play in my head
and hours dance by
now the sun barely reflects
off the blue in the sky

its 6:03 now
and my words ran away
so i'll sit here with silence
with whats left of the day