TICK TALK

An old clock ticks in the background Never quite sure of what time it is Yet steadfastly sure it is right at least twice a day It will not tell you your blood pressure Nor will it count your footsteps Or find you the nearest Starbucks Its gears will eventually wear down Softly lose their edginess Its ticks become a fading whisper It will slowly become more silent Its presence less noticeable Unless it is a friggin’ Cuckoo clock

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Daniel Henry Rodgers

Date: 5/5/2025 8:09:00 AM

Hello John, O such quiet wisdom and humor in the steady tick of an old clock such a classic symbol in poetry for the passage of time, mortality, and the moments we let slip by. Unlike today’s “smart” gadgets, the humble clock simply marks time, growing quieter as its gears wear down-unless, of course, it’s a lively cuckoo clock, forever refusing to fade into silence. Spring Blessings, My Friend, Daniel