August272012

I found a poem that my dad wrote in college

Standing Time

 -

TICK-SWING-TOCK

 -

Casket of moments

Entombed by your chimes

Your echoes momentous

Bemoaned for all times.

 -

SWING – TICK – SWING

 -

Your pallor face

And coldly etched hands

Recounts the ballad

Of every man’s stand.

-

TOCK – SWING – TICK

 -

Closer in weighting

Sensing sands flow

Leaving the pale-

Deferring to go.

 -

SWING – TOCK – swing

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Age is a coffin

Closing too fast

On memories not often

Made in our past.

 -

tick – swing – tock

 -

Time sways unfailing

Towards minutes to be

Filled with our breathing

The guillotine swings free

 -

swing –

 -

Reminding us – doleful –

With each subdued tock

Of moments yet buried

In grandfather’s clock.

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