There doesn’t seem 
to be the 
hurry when one 
is contentedly alone 
like the fire
that burns slowly 
in the pit 
rather than the 
ravaging wildfire emboldened 
to get somewhere 

In this time
of obscene uncertainty 
it’s moments like 
these where I
find myself moments 
shutting out shuffling 
off into us
your eyes my
smile our laughter 
these root me
like those of
strong oaks amidst
the many strangers 
and their madness 

I’m old enough 
to know that 
things change very
quickly and that
one should always
be grateful for
what one has
and not for
what one might

I bought a clock 
for fifty percent off
expecting damage it arrived 
in a pristine condition 
put together wound up 
hung on the wall 
looking handsome as ever 
keeping perfect time its 
pendulum so easily swung 
and then it chimed 
like a bell tower 
with a sore throat 
and an hour off
one at two two
at three then I 
knew that the little 
clock was perfect we’re 
both a little off
and considered damaged goods 
welcome home my friend 

Except wrinkles 
and death
I frequently 
forget time 
a pendulum 
clock silently 
swinging reminds 
me of
just how
precious these
moments are 
and how 
silently simple 
they pass