Hands and Clocks

I feel hands on my back.

Not real person hands, just clock hands.

So that when I wake up, it’s just me, and that ticking from the clock that I hid around here somewhere.

Clocks aren’t haunted, they are good.

Clocks help us,

So that we all stay in this very same moment.

Even my family. 

They are in this moment with me.

Just one room away.

Just one tick away.

I feel hands on my back.

But they are less like clock hands,

And more soft and ghostly.

My clock is disconcertingly…

Somewhere else in this world.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2023

Poem

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Schatz Avatar
September 21, 2023 at 1:30 AM
I really like this one Angelica. I wasn't expecting the haunting turn toward the end (from "But they are less like clock hands")
Jones Avatar
September 20, 2023 at 8:28 PM
Unique and thought provoking
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