The clock ticks <br />but Time <br /> <br />has stopped <br />paying attention. <br /> <br />The clock <br />is left <br /> <br />talking to itself. <br /> <br />Time has eloped <br />with Death. <br /> <br />Memory searches <br />everywhere for you. <br /> <br />You have become <br />a night of stars <br /> <br />that the Past <br />holds to itself <br /> <br />the rain of twenty <br />years ago <br /> <br />stll falls <br />in the mind <br /> <br />empty of knowing <br /> <br />connecting nothing <br />to nothing <br /> <br />the line <br />erasing itself <br /> <br />as it is <br />drawn.<br /><br />Dónall Dempsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/call-me-al-for-ruthie/
