Springs and things

It is I
that is wound up tightly,
so the clock strikes me
as being somewhat superfluous
the chimes unmelodious
and the case just an atlas
in which to hide the map
of my days.

In the hourglass
two ships
both of them sinking
while
I sit here thinking
what a waste.

yet
we cheer up
when our time’s up
and it’s time
to
go home.

© 2017, John Smallshaw.