Resting the Faces of Time (a poem)

Post date: Jan 20, 2020 12:55:31 PM

By: Abby Walter, Staff Writer

Posted January 20th, 2020

Resting the Faces of Time

Some say...

gears make clock hands turn,

but we dreamers

know the truth.

A fiery scarlet dragon chases

a fading blue peacock in circles,

catching her every time.

The dragon effortlessly guides

the slim bar,

the minute hand,

as easily

as a housekeeper

might whisk a broom.

The peacock groans

under the weight

of the hour hand’s

sturdy beam.

Hours were once

shorter than minutes,

but as the peacock

grew frail,

the dragon

simply grew.

Even now that the tides have turned,

in the dragon’s attempt

to ease his mentor’s burden,

the old peacock

can never stay ahead for long.

Neither master

nor student

enjoys their endless game of tag,

but that is how they will remain:

chasing,

slowing,

catching,

passing.

That is,

until they reap their reward:

the sweet relief

only delivered

by a digital clock.