The Clockmaker's Joy

[milo]

The Clockmaker's Joy


In the heat that’s dry and white like hay
the intolerable bright
of summer’s day


and you - a sundial trapped within it
I beckon you to come away
and slip the minute.


Without the metronomic gears
to click away the passing years
without the ticking panic that it brings
without the entropy of springs


we can leap up to the sky
casting off the weight of death and birth
and years that pass, the curvature of earth
can fall beneath us as we fly.

but

close your eyes and feel the shadows turn
and night will find you there upon the chaise
helpless to the years that churn
and turn your body into clay.


Look out the window now, across the lawn
across the brook across the moonlight’s chill
and cast away your fear of dawn
your premonition of the daylight

crashes

Twelve groups of children gather on the hill
and burn the moon to ashes.