Open Poetry #34 |
Nigh, The Hour |
Magnus
since 2001-10-10
Posts 14135South Carolina, USA |
Nigh, the hour that stalks the hurried hand of seconds passing. Swirling ever clockwise across the somber face of a weathered time piece..A towering clock... trying desperately to catch and stop the march of black covered feet... If only the whisper might be heard. Would the tick come before the somber tock? The barren face of a pocked and shining crescent moon reflecting off the face...a slight but perceivable shadow marching backwards against the spear of an hour’s swath...silence hovering heavily over a darkened room...does the clock ever sleep, resting in the quiet lull of night? If now my hands were to fall at my side, might my own messenger of moments desert and fail me? Letting the lifeless and cooling flesh of me become but a memory... Perhaps the slackened spring of future ticks awaits a weathered hand....as a candle’s flicker gleams the squinting eyes....and a light tendril of smoke curls upward...as a latch clicks...and the chime of twelve awakens only the rising moon. |
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© Copyright 2005 Barry J. Tackett - All Rights Reserved | |||
Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
enjoyed this one even as the clock ticks away writing and reading, to the last second |
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LeeJ Member Patricius
since 2003-06-19
Posts 13296 |
If only the whisper might be heard. Would the tick come before the somber tock? a penetrating write...lovely, wholesome and very brave.... |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
nice thoughts Barry.. "cast me gently into the morning, for the night has been unkind" |
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*Alli4000*
since 2004-03-21
Posts 3188The World of Poetry |
love this... ~Alli~ Happy 2005! |
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Tiersdin Member Elite
since 2000-11-17
Posts 2364east coast |
This should be read aloud... ~tier |
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