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