Hands Of The Clock

Fair winds following seas
shouted from the deck
and I do another lap around
the proverbial widows walk
Although these days it isn’t
so much a part of the grieving process
as it is a reflection of
my own personal ups and downs
…and it is a safe place to burn
Time has no sense of urgency
it moves; remains within its constraints
It does not deviate from its endless path
Unchangeability, somber and steadfast
like the seasons – but without
global warming to impact its process
Like when it snows in April
stopping us dead in our tracks
Time continues on and on and on
It’s funny how a moment here
or there can get lost
within the fragile mind of humans
preoccupied with their own movements
self importance, ego based benders

It doesn’t matter; the journey remains
and it rolls on one click at a time
Hands of the clock tick tock, tick tock

©2021 TrilbyYates