Father Time Goes On

This year
Father Time keeps his distance.

He’s perched Buddha-style,
high atop a volcano,
somewhere far away.

He’s checking his heavy
pocket-watch regularly,
and listening to Big Ben
with his bionic ear.

He has the fear.

Somehow, he’s let it all
spin out of control:
no more, can he hold on
to the wheels
with mechanical implements-
the ones that keep us on
an even keel.
Other forces, are working now
and his grip is slipping.

Up on his precipice
as the world whirls,
he blinks at some midnight sun,
then turns his back …
and runs.

Kathleen Mortensen © 2016

If you like this poem, search my “Father Time” posts from past years at kat5361.wordpress.com


2 thoughts on “Father Time Goes On

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