John Lawless Poet Free verse

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

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Daniel Henry Rodgers May 5, 2025 at 8:09 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