The Watch Man

August 24, 2011
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"The watch no longer tells time"
That parchment voice crackled
His feather hair ruffled in the soft breeze
That leather face wrinkled and worn

We smelled the burning ash that day
It filled our tubes with smoke
He wound his watch patiently
His fingers cared for time that didn't pass

The wails filled my scarred ears
The dirt on my skin hid the goosebumps
I didn't need to know what was happening
To know exactly what was happening

That old man, that watch man
He would wind it up again
He would murmur to himself of the better days
The watch told him they never passed

My mother told me never to smoke
It seems I would, anyways
She had such a pretty dress that day
The day they pulled her away

The watch man knows no time
He never waits, he never mourns
He is gone to us
He always was

Ever since that watch stopped

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