by Barry Vitcov.
Regardless of how hard you try
the second hand still clicks seconds
the minute hand sweeps minutes
but the hour hand seems
to quicken a beat each day
Your old watch crystal reflects
fleeting images, the façade of memories
like ephemeral glitters
a morphing countenance transformed
with the tick-tock rhythm of
seconds and minutes
and the slowly diminishing movement
of hours
What some make of time
is artificial and invented
by those who believe
measurement is incremental
an understandable assessment
Yet, you know time accumulates
whether counted or not
each tick a testament
each tock a whisper of eternity