Several years ago Allan and I purchased a grandfather clock. We had talked about having one in our home for years, but then came the rhythms of growing into a marriage that put the clock into that “someday” category.
Now it proudly stands at the foot of the stairs, welcoming us each morning, wishing us sweet dreams each night. It ticks the seconds, chimes the quarter hours, and bongs the hour. It is a constant in our world, a comfort in a time when many things aren’t.
One of my goals for poetry month was to experiment with some new poetry forms. So on this last Tuesday in April, I’m offering up an Etheree, a ten line non-rhyming form with ascending syllable count, inspired by the clock.
the soft chiming,
echoed by the beats
of my life-pumping heart
and the rhythms of my life –
a comfort during sleepless nights,
a guardian of all who dwell here,
a constant at the start and end of day.