And To Thee An Hourglass Poem by Clive Culverhouse

suddenly in a gap between talking, he was taken over
by a new page, turned mid flow, as he clutched his chest,
creases betraying a defeated face as a thousand thoughts
bottle-necked the wasp-waste of an end, the hourglass
about to crash to the floor, his hourglass, his time, his eyes
and through the mist and haze, he had never felt so alone,
clamminess whitewashed his pain as the seat shuddered
beneath him, his eyes overwhelmed with fear, dewing
wetter with each fading beat, my heart thy final judge,
only tomorrow would know whether he was going
to start his life sentence for murder as the courtroom
looked on before an ushered and craned departure



And To Thee An Hourglass by Clive Culverhouse