Timekeepers {a #poem}
Six o’clock sounds
say ‘hurry home’
in the rush and whoosh
of tires sliding through
the rain soaked street.
The tick, click, tick of
the clock confirms
the dinner hour
while a bird
through the window
with his “cheerup, cheerup, cheer!”
reminds any and all
listeners that
evening is approaching.
The electronic hmmzzzzzzzz….
of the flat screen TV
insists I pay attention
to the 6 o’clock news;
but I resist the tell
and welcome instead
better clocks with softer sounds—
the message bird calling,
the rainy streets telling me
day
is
done
and the slow, drowsy way I pen these
words at the close of day.
