Time

December 30, 2018 at 8:56 pm (Poems) ()

When I was eight or nine
Mum and Dad gave me a watch.
It was small, with a black strap
and real numbers.
Time was made tangible by its touch.

Since I was eight or nine
I have been fascinated and repelled
by all notion of time, fixed and passing.

I will not be defined by mealtimes, deadlines or clock chimes: will not swing on the heavy pendulum
that marks each moment of a dying day.

My precious watch is tucked away, unwound.
And I dance between beats,
acknowledging respectfully
but untethered by Time.

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3 Comments

  1. nobodysreadingme said,

    I remember my first watch. It was a reward for absolutely nailing my 11 plus, and getting scholarships to not one but two private schools.. I haven’t warn a watch in the past ten years. Maybe more.

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