AWAKE AT NIGHT

 

"The clocks tick less loud in the sun."

2 a.m. 

Here I sit with my journal and pen,

Surrounded by dark in a circle of light,

A ticking clock the only sound.

What a metaphor this late at night

To be awake and hear time passing.

So seldom this happens, 

A ticking clock for the marking of time.

But tonight it's clear,  

The surrounding dark, with no day near.

The comforting dark and ominous clock.

It may not be good

To hear your present become your past

One tick at a time. 

Better when birds are tuneful, deer awake, distractions circling.

Instead, this hush, broken by metronome, less than a second.

The hands of the clock pushing time backwards.

Watch them advance.

Further and further, till so much lies behind,

Almost naught left ahead.

It's all beyond now, the tocks have all ticked.

Before my ears the days have passed,

Yet the clock keeps on ticking. 

Is it healthy to sit in this spot of light listening?

To study the old tyrant, time?  

I'll go back to bed and wait for the morn. 

You do the same.  

The clocks tick less loud in the sun.