Friday, November 1, 2013

Clocks, 1822


Tick tick tick tick
Staring at a face - old, hardened face
with hands that journeyed across points,
I think of obsolete shadows befalling
copper sundials, brown faces
warn, mingled with oxide

So peculiar were those instruments
made by ingenuity
Curiosity drove and almost forced
mankind's impeccable nature 
to reach an understanding 
evermore grounded than before

Centuries later we now hear 
(tock tock tock tock)
the mechanical circumvention,
the steady intervals of seconds
Analog clocks talking, telling
of new moments

I wonder, looking toward the future,
if new designs will come forth,
turning these clicking things into 
dated bits of technology
I wonder if they will ever
return to the hush of dials past

Silence



 
 


 



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