hickory dickory

the clock is generous with its charms
coasting noon to six
the mouse is giddy in his want
gouging a goldmine fix

the clock moves easy up the hill
seventh to eleventh hour
the mouse is flagging out of breath
systemic loss of power

the clock arms toward magnetic north
prepare the twelve bell peal
the mouse requests a moment’s pause
to unravel false and real

the clock emits a moonround laugh
convulsing sea and land
the mouse is rigid pale impaled
run through by the second hand

49 thoughts on “hickory dickory

  1. I don’t often read rhyming poetry by you John. Bravo…this is excellent, flows like quick silver and perfect meter. Hats off.. sending much love your way.

  2. A grim end for the mouse, who, in my mind, symbolises the hopefulness of the light: there is an unsettling implication in this that the hours to come offer up only fear and dread…but then that could just be me reading something else into this fine poem. Thank you for sharing this, John.

  3. Mouse v Clock. No chance to win, huh? This is the first year that I started feeling ‘out of breath’. One day the ‘moonround laugh’ will convulse ‘sea and land’ but I won’t hear it 😉 Haha, I am kidding 🙂 I will live forever 🙂

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