March 22, 2012

Escape


















My old clock still keeps
good time, but cannot
tell how much
is left.
Like god, it leaves
me to my own devices,
always there
as a reminder
of why I'm here,
so I'll remember
time is passing,
see its movement
whenever I glance
into the mirror,
hear its faint tick
in a quiet moment
before I leave
for somewhere important,
mainspring tightly wound
each morning,
escapement
releasing me,
without a sound.