Saturday, January 26, 2019

Poem: Time

Time 
The clock in the kitchen is quite often slow
No matter how often you right it
It slips and it dallies till you're ready to go
If you're wanting the bus--have you missed it?

The hands march around, each at their own pace
Plastic vegetables lining the frame
The longest would win if it were a race
Far slower the shortest hand's game 

The broccoli sits at half past eleven
The pepper at quarter to three
The tomato lies at half past seven
At half past twelve, the peas 

The clock was a gift on our wedding day
It has hung internationally
It got cracked in the move, but it ticks night and day
Allbeit not punctually

-SFK
14.Feb.2016

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