More or Less About Time ~ palinode

More or Less About Time

blank, black disc
tells me nothing
until a quick tap
or flip of the wrist
brings it to life
shows its face
chosen by me
to emulate analog
in a digital world
the only gear here

appearance simple
yet detailed
time a primary concern
weather at a glance
health in numbers
pulse, steps
another tap
exercise calories
and another tap
phone texts for eyes
younger than mine
still adjusting to digital

 I’m closing out National/Global Poetry Writing Month by actually being on prompt for
Day Thirty at, where Maureen asks us to write a palinode
– a poem in which you retract a view or sentiment expressed in an earlier poem.
Compare this to Watching Time, a poem about my heirloom pocket watch
written for an April 2017 challenge.

Simple Simultaneity


Simple Simultaneity

The watch you hold
within your hand
was once held dear
by early man

to detect time
or effect time.
Some even thought
it could hold time.

Its gears would turn,
and time would burn.
Or so they thought
until they learned

that time’s true course,
clear now, of course,
lies in a pool
of one true source.

Past and present,
future events,
occur at once
for all intents.

It may look slick
but its one schtick
is that it does
no more than tick.


This my response to Day Twenty at, where the challenge is to explore a particular object or place from the point of view of some far-off, future scientist.

Daily Task ~ memento

Daily Task

In hands both worn and never still
a simple watch was held

the daily tasks could be fulfilled
and all life’s worries felled.
And more

than that in times severe and lean,
each day it was resolved
that time

and labor served without machine
would take away the pall,

This is my response to Meeting the Bar: Memento, the prompt from Grace at dVerse ~ Poets Pub, which is to write a poem in the memento form or about a memento. I have done both, writing about a daily occurrence (though not a holiday or anniversary) involving a particular object, a pocket watch that was my grandfather’s and handed down to my father (and then to me). My grandfather was a laborer all of his life, one that was mostly consumed by hard times.

Memento: The form was created by Emily Romano and is a poem about a holiday or an anniversary, consisting of two stanzas as follows: the syllable count should be 8 beats for line one; 6 beats for line two; and two beats for line three. This is repeated twice for each stanza. The rhyme scheme is: a/b/c/a/b/c for each of the two stanzas.


Not Just Any Watch ~ with audio


Not Just Any Watch

This is not a timepiece held by just any man.
His later life an escape to simple times and the bottle,
it graced the pocket of your father’s jeans
and marked the hours as he worked by your side,
toiling in farm fields after your mother’s death.
And later, it measured the hours of tavern time
till we would pick him up and drive to Aunt Ginny’s,
his home in his last years far from those fields,
never recovering from his loss. Measuring
his life, short as it was, it passed to you,
its black shoestring of a watch chain lasting
even through the years it served you. It passed
from your hands to mine, a reminder
of the hard years of your youth, a witness
to the life you achieved through hours of hard work,
a testament to the power of time to heal.

This poem is my response to Poetics:Object Poems, the prompt from Mish at dVerse ~ Poets Pub, which is to write a poem beginning with “This is not a ______” and centered around an every day object, sparing the details of the object and instead showing the connection that it has made or what it represents.

Image: the pocket watch that once belonged to my grandfather, and then my father.

The Tie That Binds

The Tie That Binds

Within my hand lies the gift of time,
from your father to you, and now to me.
When I pass it on, this pocket watch
will hold the lives of three generations.

A simple watch. So thought the jeweler.
“I can clean it, but it’s probably not worth
repairing. It’s only seven jewels.”
But it keeps time, and it continues to hold time.

Its true value lies in those three generations.
The “chain” is a testament to that,
made by the hands that first held it.
A simple black shoelace for a simple watch.

My grandfather’s pocket watch was handed down to my father, and then to me.
It’s fitting that this working man’s watch made in 1898 hangs from a worn black shoelace.
(Research shows that it has 15 jewels.)

The prompt for Day 20 of National/Global Poetry Month at
is to write a poem about a homemade or handmade gift you received.

Golden Years ~ haibun

Golden Years.jpg

Golden Years

Etched into the surface of a pocket watch once held by my grandfather, and then his son, a cabin under the shade of a tall tree sits on the bank of a stream. Worn smooth in places, and sitting now in my hand, the gold case speaks of simpler times, its voice carrying across the years, conveying the value of a hard day’s work.

time-treasured heirloom
hands within to mark the time
held within each day

Using voice and watch, this haibun is my response to a challenge from Colleen Chesebro: Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge No. 50 #Haiku #Tanka #Haibun: VOICE & WATCH.

Watching Time


Watching Time

Handed down.
Handled with care.
A jewel holding jewels.

Watching Time

Intricate wheels,
gears that mesh.
All movements within

this case, precious
metal holding memories.
Times more simple,

complex in the times
it holds. Generations
removed. Generations

remembered over
time. Piece
by piece.

The optional prompt from NaPoWriMo 2017 for Day 25 of National Poetry Writing Month/Global Poetry Writing Month is to write a poem that explores a small, defined space.

NaPoWriMo 2017GloPoWriMo 2017

Hands in Hand

Hands in Hand

Hands behind me,
turned any way you like,
will not reveal
years, decades past,
nor the hands that held me

That man you knew,
barely knew,
who spent his life
trying to turn back the clock,
resurrect a love
too early in her grave,
is generations gone

His mistake:
dwelling on the past,
ignoring what I offer,
Now and Tomorrow

Take me forward,
my hands in yours