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Still Time
I stare
Watching the thin black limbs on the clock.
They seem not to move.
The time stands still,
But the thoughts in my head
Scatter,
Like mice hiding from a bright light.
I sit
In just one of the many
Cold, ordinary
Silver and blue chairs
Hunched in an eternal boredom
Til my appendages go numb,
And the place
On my face
Where my hand had rested.
Silence devours the air,
Except for a cold whisper.
The sound of the bell
Rings abruptly
With a sudden onset
Of high pitched clanging.
It brings my thoughts to a halt.
I remove my hand from my left cheekbone
Shaking off the sensation of loss of blood
And gather my things
As the end of the hour
Begins the rest
Of my day.

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