This poem is about time and a grandfather clock. Time goes by weirdly. I think the best way to describe it is with a quote from Albert Einstein. "Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute and it feels like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour and it seems like a minute. THAT'S relativity."
Grandfather looked through me and flashed a toothy grin
Time worn cheeks flushed red and full of sin
As his booted left foot kicked dust scattering out the way
I shifted my vision towards the sun's last ray
Grandfather took another step away from me
I was caught in the amber of time, and I didn't see
Footsteps sent melodic ticks that shook my mind
But my eyes couldn't hear, and my ears went blind
Grandfather's vast wrinkled hand twisted the door knob around
My whole attention though was on the patterned ground
All that was left of my body was a bag of broken bones
But my soul, rhythmically, perpetually droned
The old man's knees wobbled as he shoved the door
Dirt brown, from all the hands that had touched before
Hinges screamed at themselves, him and I
Finally, my eyes found themselves racing up high
My ice bleached veins decided to drip
Again. Again. Again. I slip
Grandfather's left foot was the final piece I saw
Before the door slammed
Startled
I thaw
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