in that ticking of the clock <br />three generations of time <br />had ticked past... <br />with some tickings fixed firm <br />each ticking concealed <br />tireless roar of the sea <br />and a conundrum of emotions <br />time has its way of <br />teasing and tiring us <br />one fine evening during <br />a casual chitchat as sister <br />got off from the chair <br />she hit back at time and <br />the grandfather's clock- <br />though i had never known him <br />but through the clock fixed to the wall- <br />that seemed to chime <br />eternally into the wee hours <br />each time waking me up cruelly <br />from an innocent sleep <br />lay there in pieces... <br /> <br />the pendulum, still oscillates <br />the conundrum, still unsolved <br />the flux of the sea, still echoes <br />though we could never manage <br />to get another clock <br /> <br />and external surfaces <br />still gleam and glitter... <br /> <br />20dec2009 <br />08.21hrs<br /><br />indira babbellapati<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/grandpa-s-clock/
