the clock tower

For my good friend Bill H. Rest In Peace

In the clock tower yesterday 

a cog broke a tooth

The townsfolk

pooled into a crowd at its base

on a cobblestone street

Their eyes disarrayed,

contemplated the stilled hands,

stared pensively into its motionless face

That afternoon time ceased

The town horologist gathered springs

and tension wire 

weaved between the townsfolk with his case

and disappeared inside

Children sang as they did in those days

holding hands in chorus

while the parents gathered flowers and 

shared pleasantly toned condolences

Some brought pies

and warm cakes 

and munched on memories

After some time I suppose

things will be back to normal;

the townsfolk will recite

the day time stood still in the square

and who gathered 

and who brought flowers

and who sang

and remember how they felt

As for me,

I will send a card to the horologist

with a donation for his service

and a flower for his table

and a cake for his children

In a matter of three days

the old broken cog was buried

and the clock had a new face,

and of those attending the funeral

who were old enough to remember

the time before the clock,

when it became new,

told us their stories 

I will remember the sound

of the old clock's tick tock in my ear

and the grace of its wise old face

fondly

Author's Note

Tonight I will visit the funeral home and see my friend Bill in a casket. His time (here anyway) has stopped. Family and us friends will gather around and share the parts of our lives he blessed. He was good man. He was an asset to his community and a blessing to the lives he touched. I will miss him.

Reviews

[Vidya Bacchus]

I am sorry about your friend Xavier,this is quite a wonderful Tribute of sorts:)

[m.s.early]

Thank you Vidya. :)

[Vidya Bacchus]

You are welcome :)

[LadyAnn68]

Very well done and I am sorry for your friend but as you say he touched your life with a special quality all his own! Fond wishes for you and him!

[m.s.early]

Thank you so much for you kind words.

[LadyAnn68]

You are most welcome!

[Jack...]

My friend, this one tore me apart and maybe not how it was intended...there is a deeper meaning here, at least to me and it ripped into me like no poem I can every remember reading has ever done before. I am sitting here now as i type, intermittently glancing out the window and wondering what the hell it's all about...what is this that I see? People going about their day, busy, trees are growing new leaves, there is a line of cars at the fast food joint next door and my right elbow is leaning on my desk...why? Sorry to go off here a bit, but your words, you have touched me. For some strange reason at this very moment I wish time would either reverse or tick faster.

Very well penned my friend.

[m.s.early]

Thank you Jack. I've been for nearly two months and have known you since. Your poems are a part of my daily routine and your thoughts of mine are endeared and important. I'm glad to have touched you and honored that this piece had such a profound affect. Thank you so much. This is reassurance that I am where I'm supposed to be and doing what I'm meant to do. God bless you, Jack :)

[Jack...]

Oh and due to my carrying on I forgot to say, sorry for your loss. It hurts to lose a friend...I have lost many. I am so sorry my friend.

[m.s.early]

Thank you Jack... :)

[David Scott]

I often wonder how many tics of the clock my life will measure...
Every life is precious (or had precious potential) and every moment carries the full measure of the weight of life's value.
Shall we determine not to waste any more of them?
Shall we live with more gratitude for the value of the moments past and those who have shared their with us?
A wonderful poem and a very kind tribute.
I am sorry for your loss and joyful your heart was affected by his life in a way to lead your pen to this write.
Wonderfully done Silver.

[m.s.early]

Thank you very much David. Your thoughts are appreciated and taken to heart :)

[m.s.early]

We are born with a certain number of beats in our heart. We are not granted the knowledge of their count, we are only certain that there is finite quantity. One of them will certainly be our last. Live slow. Spend time listening to yourself breathe. Let them beat easy and revere every one of them.