10:22 sparks a feeling of springtime.
The sun slowly sets behind the trees, and its glow hinges on each blade of grass still damp from the snow;
That melted from the heat,
Of a summer that came too soon.
11:01 marks the feeling of a friend,
That was too lazy to dial 508.
So they climbed up the roof, and their hair glowed like honey that’s left out in the path of the morning sun.
A sun that shined to bright,
On the face of a friend, that drank pink lemonade, on a hot afternoon.
11:10 sparks the feeling of an endless night.
The air was cool and brisk, and slowly leaked through the window and brought the smell of burning wood and miracle bubbles.
They floated away… and sparkled as they went,
Into a sky so orange that it bleed its light onto the cooling pavement.
That lied under a sky that claimed it was blue.
11:11 marks the daydream of a young girl that made a wish.
That put faith in a line of sequential numbers, in hope that they would give her the power to fly.
But she knew the path had only begun, so she put on the cover of her pen and answered the question.
And gave an answer that she knew had no significance.
So she could fly away.
And sit on the roof, and daydream about a lifetime of insignificant happenings