Hours
Some hours race by at breakneck speed,
So fast they’re almost blurry,
As if, like fire trucks on call,
They’re in the biggest hurry.
While other hours move like snails
Or just like taffy, stretching,
Until we’re forced to check the clock
To try to keep from kvetching.*
Still, time is not in our control.
We lack the needed powers
To change the pace as minutes
Dash or crawl and turn to hours.
*complaining
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