I spied a timekeeper
reposed upon a wall.
His burden too heavy,
the edifice too tall.

Tenderly I did lift
his old timepiece aloft,
and there inside he hid,
vulnerable and soft.

Patiently I waited;
I didn’t want him urged.
Torpidly time did move
before an eye emerged.

Then, as if he realized
all the time put to waste,
out came the other eye
with a little more haste.

Gently, he moved towards me
as the old church bell chimed;
shell lumbering above
and slime trailing behind.

And for me he kept
some of life’s precious time,
passing so pleasantly
for no reason or rhyme.

-Alyssa Myers