Thursday, November 24, 2011


Flickr Creative Commons photo by simpologist

Time has slowed,
stopped flowing
like sand or water or air
between my fingers.

The clock's ticks were
a blur.
Now I feel space
between each beat.

Between each beat
I reach
and catch the coins,
make a stack of riches:

moon's tug
eyes' blinks
Christmas cactus' bloom
heart's thumps
pencil's scratches

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2011


  1. I like the part at the beginning where 'time has slowed' . So often as it runs through my fingers as you wrote, I want to say 'stop, stop'! And your ending, offering pieces that slow us-lovely.

  2. Wow! This is beautiful! Reminds me to slow down, stop peeling potatoes and fussing at teenagers!


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