He’s noticed
the second hand of his watch
moving unfailingly
in the midst of a fierce storm.
He’s seen it stay its course
when his days were collapsing like sticks,
and when his whole life
seemed to be slowing to a stop.
The second hand
keeps control of itself.
On his bedside table at night,
it does its quiet work
while his heart is doing its
and the steady stars
are doing theirs.
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