The shadow of the grandfather clock does not seem to move at the same pace as the hour-hand, neither does it follow the same circular path. I expect it travels at its own pace and answers no one.
The skilled hands and artful tools of the watchmaker can make no adjustments. The grandfather feels as if he is several steps beyond tired. He has tracked time across many lives and would like nothing more than to slip off to dream in the shadows.
Built long ago for the town square, there is now a strained effort in
the sound of his ticks and a noticeable weariness to his pendulum. Age has caught up to the second hand, which
makes it a little poetic that the grandfather retire to a second-hand shop, which is where I found him, motionless, hopefully just napping.
No comments:
Post a Comment