Clock Wise
They were traditional
retirement gifts
after a long working life.
I never understood.
Perhaps the first time
it was given in irony,
an employer with a quirky sense of humour,
but then it caught on and became traditional.
I remember the one given to my father.
It was brown
all brown
with cream numbers and fingers.
It sat dismally on our mantelpiece
ticking away morosely
long after his death.
As I child I used
the glass as a mirror,
a smiling face, a funny face,
or a gurning face.
My faces livened it up a bit
but I left it behind
when mother died.
- © Lynn White 2022
Lynn White lives in north Wales. Her work is influenced by issues of social justice and events, places and people she has known or imagined. She is especially interested in exploring the boundaries of dream, fantasy and reality. She was shortlisted in the Theatre Cloud 'War Poetry for Today' competition and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net and a Rhysling Award.
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