Sequence poem part III
Here's the third part to my sequence poem.
it is always five-to-nine in this bed, always
five-to-nine as the other clocks chime and the air outside
travels between day and night, black to white.
it is always five to nine, when they bring me breakfast
always five-to-nine when they bring lunch
and always five-to-nine when i eat my dinner.
it was five-to-nine when his heart stopped, they say,
and it will be five-to-nine when i close my eyes
for the last time;
it will be as though we passed away in the same moment,
immortalised together in the atom of five-to-nine.
so let the other clocks chime and let the days pass,
and i will be content in this one minute world,
the three dimensions of these four walls
and the silent tick of my heart for company.