To Keep Time

My answer to the question "Why do you write poetry?".

Time runs with or with out provocation

The quiet click of my watch tells me this

Though the hum, ever flowing, of the fan

And the refrigerator, and the electricity in the walls

Tells me otherwise, the watch is king

 

So to hold this moment, I listen

I abide in the busy silence of night

Stare into the waxy dark as it waits

For the heat that will come to melt it

And take into myself the ink of the darkness

 

It holds down even time in it

The bare white of the day

When drawn across are moon-kissed lines

Then, when coolness comes to form back up the drippings

It learns again the art of keeping time

 

So each new day to come is held at bay

By quiet sounds who whisk the time away

Reviews

[She With Eyes Like Unsh..]

Your poem is beautiful! I loved it's simplicity and loveliness!