Word Study #71964, or, Grave Reflections on Dull Moments

there was a moment
where I was about to create something
and then
for some reason or another
that process became
that is to say that I started
thinking about another moment
back when I was about to create something
back at that moment
before whichever evening
that one where i sat listening in grave continence
like all the others
there may have been something
a shard of meaning broken off
left to glint, but muddied, by nature’s drool
rain, sunshine, wind, and time

that moment was mine

but dreams of cumulative moments
compacted down into a night’s time
six and three quarter hours of sleep
twenty seven minutes of restlessness
and two minutes, seventeen seconds of abject horror
now that it’s tomorrow
they conspire in their own creations
their own moments
to alter
and remembering them is like going back to sleep

there was a moment where I dreamed
a moment where possibility stood like a studied underling
impossibility lay dormant as if it had found the conundrum of its being

outside of myself
people dreamed
outside of myself
there was a moment
where I created