Poem For A Limping Clock Poem by Neil Young

Poem For A Limping Clock



Perched like a hat Napoleon might wear,
You limply cut to shreds each measured day.
Each threatened tick weighs no more than hot air.
Thin-veneered, you march on, always hungry.

Thursday, December 14, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: poetry
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Jette Blackstone 14 December 2017

Clocks, Crows, the moon: all great fodder for poets...and your clock is an original. Thanks for sharing.

0 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success