Unwelcome Premonition
Atop his short stepladder,
8th Ave’s resident preacher
thrusts ghostly white hand
from sleeve of blackness
imploring purchase of his
ornate pocket watch
My iWatch has stopped,
Refusing to move from
its analog 10:55 showing bright,
while the clock over the pawn shop stands frozen
in its caked soot and dust at 3:10
Jumping to the ground
Preacher-man accosts me
with his antique timekeeper
whose face reveals
no arms
no numerals
as he stealthily asks I study
his timeless pocket piece
I stumble away from his veiled premonition
Having a dream last night about my first impressions of Ingmar Bergman’s “Wild Strawberries,” I imagined how a modern-day version of time running out might occur. (Image by pinterest)
If our Earth, for some strange reason, would stop its rotation, the havoc would tear the Earth's crust from its mantle of molten iron and we would not be contemplating watches or digital clocks.
Ron