Repeat the Hour

Awaking earlier than early,
Thanks to the intervention of the god
Whose job it is to offer us a brief reprieve,
When two in the morning repeats itself.

Let me assign this gift,
Replay an hour that I should have handled better.
Perhaps that time I did not support you,
Gave you satire when a hug was called for.

What of the call I did not make,
A hesitation when action was needed,
An impulsive thrust
Instead of a reasoned reply.

With the hour retrieved
I could make resolutions
That would surpass the recorded transactions
Of the hour not well spent.

And the rub?
What of the other hours,
All of the time remaining,
Wherein I might achieve or lament?

What of those resolutions?
Of what value beyond a momentary vision,
Or is it all an illusion?
A false belief that arises once a year?