Poetry by Dave Douglas

The Hands of Time

 

The hands of time –

With a fist in my face

And a grasp at my throat,

Trapped in a minute space

 

The gears unwind –

Trapped in a minute space

With a grasp at my throat

And a fist in my face

 

Are the hands of time –

With a push through the day

At an unseen pace,

Only to betray

 

The gears unwind –

Only to betray,

At a hastened pace

With a push through the day

 

Are these hands of mine –

Set in distinct movement

With a means to an end

And a morning lucent

 

The sun rises once again –

With a morning lucent

And a means to an end,

Set in distinct movement

 

The moon guards the night –

With a face toward a fist

And a grasp at my throat,

In the space of minutes

 

The sun rises once again –

In the space of minutes

With a grasp at my throat

And a face toward a fist

 

The moon guards the night –

In an instant of cause

And the pendulum of effect

The errors repeat without pause

 

But, the sun rises once again –

The errors repeat, with a pause,

Without a pendulum effect

Before an instant of cause

 

As the gears unwind –

Before the final chime

The sun rises once again

By the hands of time

 

The gears unwind –

The sun obeys its last commands

And the moon guards no more,

At the time without hands …

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You can reach Dave Douglas at carpevelo@gmail.com.

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