Time Peace

Dad collected clocks; meticulously winding, checking, synchronising.

Marvelling  in the mechanism, ‘listen,’ he beseeched, and held us still,

as simultaneous hours struck irreplaceable moments.

 

With reckless disregard we hurtled  through time;

complex histories mocking Dad’s imparted  precision.

Still he held us – a permanent pivot in a plethora of progress.

 

Alarm bells rang when  Dad’s clocks collected dust;

A family epoch ending, we watched his equilibrium tip.

Though pendulums slow, time must pass. We were ready at last.

 

Still now, we listened, and held our father close as time wound down.