Saturday, 29 April 2017

The Midnight Mantle Clock


The Midnight Mantle Clock

Dead of night. 
The Westminster clock chimes like a kitten 
cry-pacing on a mantelpiece at the edge of the world,
alone in the wide-eyed dark and pining up the stairs,
"the starlight tears are singing on my face".
But all we hear is:
"Twelve o'clock and all's well".

Counting up the quarters and down the hours of dawn,
each hammer strike, on each winsome metal bar,
goes haunting in the wan wee hours.
Each a voice abed in a cold and lonely ear,
as sleep slips onto the floor, and pulled back
settles slowly into "One o'clock and all's well".
And so it chimes, 
   and so it chimes.
All's well.
   All's well.
      All's well.

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