We live our lives on the clock
Eating our lunch promptly at noon
Dividing morning and afternoon
Keeping to our punctual schedule
Serving supper at five or soon after
Going out for a walk at six or so
We track the gradual shift of the seasons
Watching the sun set its own schedule
Our appetite so conditioned to clock time
Habituated to set intervals devised by humans
Telling us when to partake of our meals
Our hunger no longer daylight dependent
The birds take their cues from the sun
Along with everything else alive except us
Who order our lives consulting numbers
Blinding the night sky with our bright lights
As a child I learned to tell Roman numeral time
By reading a dial with personified attributes
Looking at the face with its uneven hands
Pointing to the hour and to the minutes
Growing up listening to our living room clock
Centered on the mantel over the fireplace
Hearing the pendulum tick tock metronome
Chiming every hour counting out the strokes
A device so intertwined with our lives
A metaphorical ticker beats in our chest
Even as digital droid displays take over
We remain in our same separate construct
