Clocks
what strange wonderful clocks women are,
biological clocks,for they nest in time;
these gentle,smiling ones,
who own the good secret;
for what man,like wman,
lies down in darkness,
and then gets up with child;
women,they make the flesh that holds fast,
and then binds eternity;
they live inside the gift,
they know the power,
they accept it, and need not mention it;
for why speak of time,
when you are time,
and can shape those moments into warmth, and action;
how often men envy them,
and, sometimes even hate them, these warm clocks;
for they know that they will live forever,
men know this too,but,does he really believe it;
for he has carried no burden,and felt no pain,
but,the woman,she knows it.
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