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Clocks
The world is but a clock.
The shifting of its hands the change in life.
One o’clock
Stealing the spotlight from my brother’s tight grasp as an only child.
Silent in the hospital as heads peak to see
the wide-eyed bundle, me.
We race home as the clock of life ticks.
Two o’clock
We stumble and tumble together
all throughout the house.
Smiles wide, not a care in the world.
Three o’clock
Glued together as inseparable buds.
Exploring our mini world, one corner at a time.
A melody of chuckles ring from our ears to our hearts,
as some type of foreign language exclusive to us.
Four o’clock
A bond of trust forms between us,
as a braid,
every intertwining lock making the braid stronger and harder to break.
Depending on each other
I being the moon, depending on the light of him,
The sun.
Five o’clock
The braid of trust begins to fray,
Small pieces start to unravel, then it falls apart all at once.
Tension arises as the sun begins to set.
Turned backs, closed lips.
Quiet.
Separated and ignored each other as if we were invisible.
Six o’clock
Slowly, beautiful restoration of a forever friendship
shows its radiant smile once again.
Doors open, pursed lips break their bonds,
Sparking conversation.
The clock is not finished ticking just yet.
Life has many hours ahead.
Opportunities to change,
opportunities to live.
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