14. Sundial

In this garden, the hallway stops

I’m free from the deafening din of the clocks,

But still I feel time slipping away,

And still I feel time winding this day

I have the taste of freedom,

Fresh and cool in my mouth,

But it’s only a little taste,

Like fall’s chill, in the South


It reminds me of home, timeless and warm,

But I feel each hour, as each hour is torn,

And time slips away as tresses shorn


I can no longer live in these memories,

But I will try, God, I will try

I’ll kick and scream,

I’ll close my eyes,

I will cry; I will try


And I can lock myself in these towers,

And I can forget the chiming clocks,

But shadows on a sundial still count hours,

And a man who dies with money is still buried in a box

The End

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