and the old grandfather
groans and shrieks and
knocks out,
  five bells and a tinkly riff

the face says four,
the heart five and a bit
eccentricity,
is not a good companion
to measuring time...

the pendulum swings
and hitches on the return...
pausing on a memory fine
and then dodders on, over
to begin the loop again.

the cherry wood case,
the faded coat
that holds frail
mechanics within
cogs and wheels
smoothed,
by many years
of tocking service.

face cream cracked
just shy of sour,
saved by hands
refined filagree brass
and gild roman numeracy,
black and solid outlined.

outlived generations, two
and sailed from far away..
god bless
our old senile clock ...
always,
just two ticks
from fading away.