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Late

Tags: irene clock

+Maricris Cabrera and +James Polamz King both very kindly suggested that I write a poem to accompany this wonderful photograph by permission of +Irene Riz  for #poetsprompt
I was late and so I hurried,

Everywhere I looked,

There were clocks,

So I was always aware,

Of time passing,

Each second,

Each minute.

Statues, adorning the rooftops,

Lined along the ridges,

Seemed to stare down,

Mocking me,

In my blind, infectious panic.

I was late, so I imagined,

A huge, ghostly clock,

Imprinted on the sky,

The hands moving slowly,

Around its face,

Marking my transgression.

I was late,

And I so knew it.

© Text  Caro Ness 2016

© Image +Irene Riz 




This post first appeared on Caro Ness Author | Thoughts And Musings, please read the originial post: here

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