A Broken WatchA Poem by Ranger Kessel
A broken watch hanging loosely over a thinning, shaking wrist. Like a soldier out of rhythm, a clock hand ticking nervously in futility. Marching in place. It's quarter after two in this distorted world.
A moment of sullen grace, hung like wet fabrics filleting in the sun. Parched and forever unmoving. A ghost. A stain. A tattoo. Forever etching itself into the same unnerving,, tragic routine © 2022 Ranger KesselReviews
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20 Reviews Added on May 29, 2022 Last Updated on June 8, 2022 Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
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