It comes to me in the watch museum.

It’s weights, hammers and gears.

Action, reaction.

The thud of an escapement.

The dominoes of a story.


I stand inside a pocketwatch

and lose myself to inevitable design.


A plan well engineered

leaves nothing to emotion but the joy

of cog after cog, falling in track,

ticking toward the unalarmed achievement


of another hour struck. Zen empty time.


Our story is like a watch,

weights, hammers, gears.

Little gears for instant gratification,

Huge gears that circle in years with minute changes.


And I know that your actions are reactions,

along a path which matters like another hour struck.

Nothing personal.


Wren Tuatha

Wren Tuatha’s poetry has appeared in The Baltimore Review, Pirene’s Fountain, Loch Raven Review, Clover a Literary Rag, Driftwood Press, Five 2 One Magazine, Autumn Sky Poetry Daily, Digges’ Choice, and the anthology Grease and Tears. Wren and her partner, author/activist C.T. Lawrence Butler, herd goats on a mountain in California.

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