Saturday, December 18, 2004

Poem: The Clock

The fast hand sloughs seconds
Onto the clock dial, tugging
The hours and minutes along
As time burnishes the mask of our faces.

A paring of grey moonshell
Hovers over our shoulders,
Waltzing the sea surge
Over the ocean floor.

Under a red sun, night retracts its stars
And starfish lounge on rocks.
The sun in Japan sinks
In water at sight's end.

Domed flares of light appear
On the opposing hemisphere
And earth surrenders its heat,
Trading degrees with the shifting winds.
---o0o---
(c) 2004 Jack Brummet

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