it almost alarms

how hours countdown

and wall shadows fall into place

a puzzle of curves

the slow ache of four hands

each second they caress

their insistent movement

               one positioned against another

the continuity of soft-ticking


circulation and movement

                so blithe

stroking with synchronized


until bells peal

a terpsichore of twelve romans 

              chiming in climax

measuring the moments

the distance between

darkness and light

©  lori hamilton


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