Stopping Time

It was looking good this morning
The prospects were excellent indeed
In fact, she laid in bed, the sun awarming
With no particular need
Of actively fighting the progression
Of Time.
It was already only crawling by.
Soon enough it picked up its pace
And she nearly rode it all the way
To noon. 
A runaway coach
Of things to do.
Luckily, unobserved
It began to slow again
Rolling inexorably to a creeping
Waning
Friction laden
Near rest
At evening
Where at last,
In her gown,
She stepped ahead,
Bumped it with her left hip,
Turned on the ball of her right
Foot
And strode into the night
Left toes first.
Timeless.