Time is always moving forward
except when it doesn’t
one night falling back
magic to erase one hour
Like Cinderella after the ball
carriage becomes a pumpkin
magic slowly slips away
back to something darker
When time moves again forward
still darkness comes all the earlier
as if losing sight of the sun
enveloped in the gloom
Falling back
moments unrecoverable
what did we miss
in the backward ticks
Deborah Horton Writing 