Grand Father Clock Poem by Kewayne Wadley
Grand Father Clock
The pendulum swings,
Back and forth.
Merely counting each second.
Swaying back and forth.
It's motion, soft like the elephants trunk.
Slowly drawing back to it's loft.
Standind tall,
It's worn mahogany finish.
Solitary.
A handsome groom.
Encased in glass.
A guillotine, as each moment passes.
Struck with amnesia.
Back and forth,
The pendulum swings
Friday, August 28, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: me against myself,memoir,time
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4/26/2024 3:56:32 AM # 1.0.0.1119
