six faces of time

I.
One face ever present,
accompanies us all
through the wax and wane
of our mortal lives.

II.
Once, I was a clock. Numbers
arranged on my uneven face.
I am six o’clock, standing
awaiting seven’s stride.

III.
Nine-fifteen once ushered in
red-face and squalling, a sister
and morning and night became
blood ties, siblings forever.

IV.
Midnight and noon are solemn
hands clasped in prayer.

V.
One day in September, time stood still
as good people fell to earth
their only escape
from towers of fire.

VI.
Seasons have no hands
but the hands of God.
I till the earth and wait
for blossoms; their fruit
and joy are jewels
that only time may bear.









(this poem was written in response to the Wallace Stevens challenge)