timepiece

it's a forest
in the morning
unafraid of
awaiting chainsaws, 
of measurement.
times, dates, 
appointments, calls
pages, poems
texts, timely
responses.
all numbered, clocked.
each hour an acre
to be cut.
the ever moving line
of how much 
or little
to participate.
my jaw tight
stressed from short sleep, 
i wonder if anxiety feels
the same way about being within my body
as i do about being within days.