Friday, September 7, 2012

Poem for Poetry Friday

















Here's a poem I wrote for Poetry Friday:


Clock

The clock ticks
like an old friend,
marking off minutes and hours,
making the earth turn
like a mobile
hanging in the dark.

The clock ticks
like a bomb waiting
to go off, the bomb
of morning that will blast
its radios and TVs,
its car engines,
its roar, rumble, talk.

The clock ticks,
singing of days gone by
and days to come,
humming with maybes,
buzzing like a hive
of probablies and
possiblies.

The clock ticks,
but I can't always hear it.
My mind ticks, too,
with checklists and worries,
with nouns and verbs
and even a few adjectives.

The clock ticks.

—Kate Coombs, 2012
all rights reserved


Today Poetry Friday is at Katya Czaja's site, Read. Write. Repeat.

5 comments:

Matt Forrest Esenwine said...

Nice, Kate! You've taken something with which everyone can identify and made it seem new...well done!

Renee LaTulippe said...

That's beautiful, Kate. To borrow from Laura Salas, it's a sort of "A Clock Can Be..."

anne said...

loved this!

Vikram Madan said...

I resonated a lot with that last line "My mind ticks, ... ". Great poem! :)

KateCoombs said...

Thanks, you guys!