From one buttercup to the next,
From one mesmeric moment to the next,
I took a photograph of buttercups in my garden,
And I captured them again same time same place
This year, season to follow season in a flash.
City time, town time, country time,
Different clocks, different rhythms,
The buzz of the city is not the same
As the hum of a town,
And the quiet heart of the countryside,
Throbs to a different regulator altogether.
I've worked in the city and I've worked in a town,
And now I live in the country where slow clocks abound.
In the country, the earth beneath one's snowy feet may conceal
A hidden clock if only a dandelion one. Snowdrop time,
Daffodil time, lamb time, buttercup time,
Artichoke time, strawberry time and so it goes on.
Time is everywhere and soon it will be hedge cutting time,
Harvest time, Michaelmas time and dare I say it,
Christmas time. Country clocks?
I love 'em.
© Joseph G Dawson
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