Poem from or in progress 50th edition by Donna Harel

3am — a special time

Not exactly night but not exactly morning either

It falls in between the cracks of time, unable to decide to be morning or night

I often find myself in this crack of time

Like a blade of grass growing between the cracks of the sidewalks

Like the space between the car seats

Like the space where things go to get lost to only be found once they have long been forgotten 

The crumbs and trash that slips in between it all

3am — a special time

Where time seems to slow and speed at the same time

When thoughts tend to overwhelm and intrude on the peaceful space

The cover of darkness providing the perfect disguise for all

Sad and lonely

Fearful and lost

Evil and corrupt 

Angry and physical

Tired and numb

Anxious and pensive

A time all the worst comes out to play

3am — a special time

The perfect moment to catch my breath

So often missed by all yet a time we all can relate to

When the world feels like it stops to to a deep breath to then continue spinning a few hours later

A warp and a blip that makes all the difference on the outcome of the day that has passed and the one that lays ahead

3am —‘a special time I know too well