Time Poem by Rain Gill

Time



the hour hand flutters
lucidly in the night
the moon hangs low
low enough to touch
engorged with a starchy
yellow glow
the clock has fallen
silent
it no longer marks
the passing
the wasting
the decaying
of time
of life
of hopes
of dreams

Rain Gill
Thursday, May 22, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: time
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