Clock Hands

"Clock Hands" and photograph by: Erickson.

The day bubbles your thin body.
Tremble and look away.
And in light, the sun and moon dance.
Calendar tears a page.
-
The skin around your chin erodes.
Grandma, what would you say?
When you were first to look at me.
Convince a sloth to chase.
-
Orange hues blur the hills.
Same colors fought since specs were life.
Time, caught like a mouse in
Crosshairs of a camera, cold.
-
Clock hands clutch and hold a 
Waterfall. Sundial light slips, slips.
Lost conscious: a bright stare.
End distance: life and death.

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