I used to awake to the roar and squeal of racing trains
Galloping over steel to the
skyline’s highest point on the horizon.
Yawn to the ticking clock keeping time
like a metronome, never missing a beat,
Steady but urgent.
These were the sounds of the wild.
Now the skyline is an illusion
You can look but can’t touch
The trains empty carriages skate
Lightly on the tracks, like a dancer’s first step on the ice,
Daring a new fragility
The woodpecker replaces trains with his reverent grace
I remove the battery from the clock
In the beginning-
Trusted heartbeat set the pace
Now nothing is steady or urgent.
We must find another way to measure Time
And not watch the hands move
But see, for the first time,