The racing stationary clock
Would that I could make it stop,
But I confess that I cannot,
No power on Earth, no will of God,
Can stop the racing stationary clock.
Would that I might slow it down,
But there’s no way that I have found,
It’s stationary @ rapid-pace,
Here comes another Hogmanay.
Another year, three sixty five,
Where did it go - that flash of life?
No reference points, no signs to say,
Another hour has flown away.
Squandered life, like squandered cash,
What’s spent is spent, can’t get it back,
No one on Earth can feel time move,
Was twenty eight, now sixty two.
A lifetime passed @ breakneck speed,
From Jack the lad to ‘poor old Steve’,
From legs alive out on the tiles,
To somethin’ in a bowl with rice.
It’s not a normal clock as such,
It works on body, bones and blood,
A change so slow it’s rarely seen,
A hidden timepiece in our genes.
A fluke that comes with life I fear,
A fluke that hides what should be clear,
Our grasp of time, our sense of loss,
Can’t stop the racing stationary clock.
© Joseph G Dawson
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