Parade Rest

The time is plastered

On the wall,

Yet minutes stand still.

I stare, listening for

The ticking.

But it never comes.

Seconds at parade rest,

As hours seem to melt

Down the drywall all the same.

I am still here.

At least I think I am.

Have I forgotten to blink?

Is it night or day?

I have forgotten to eat again.

Time plastered and concrete,

But ever-changing when

I catch a glance.

Is this how it is every day?