Halfway through the day
I was neither half asleep
Nor half awake

Fragments of midnight
Floated in my half-empty coffee
When the midday sun
Bisected the middle
Of my imaginary world
And fractured my hourglass.
Then, the misplaced sands of time
Filtered through my half-empty hand
That was half full
Of dreams and rhymes

Mid-afternoon, I was meandering
Below the half moon’s
White silhouette
And wondering
“Were the long shadows
that fell upon my sundial,
halfway gone
or halfway there?”