Errant Minutes

By Sally Lee

This morning lasted four seconds—
long enough for light to change its mind, 
for the pot to think of boiling, 
and forget. 

Steam from the mug hadn’t even reached its curve
before light slipped from the table 
and onto the wall,
then off again. 

Voice folded into the air,
before the phone could ring its tune.
It waited there—
certain, I would need it later. 

As light finally held still, 
and my reflection—
breathing where I’d left it.

The air stiffened
and across that pause, 
something small and weightless unfolded in my hands—
not sound,
but just the quiet after it. 

Sally Lee is a student at an international school in Seoul, South Korea. Immersed in a multicultural environment, she draws inspiration from the diverse cultures and experiences around her. She is currently working on her writing portfolio.