Ode to the town hall clock.

The town hall clock, hands of time

Counting the minutes, measuring the moments

Of our paltry lives.

 

We don’t look up enough

Sometimes we don’t see beyond our own story

Yet still the hands move round.

 

That same clock struck 11, sixteen years ago.

Same minute, same location, same season.

The leaves fell to the ground in remembrance.

 

Synchronicity in those hands

You were so small then in your red coat.

Time stood still for that one moment.

 

I captured your essence in early digital perfection.

The father, the child, the moment

Beneath the town hall clock, the hands that never stop.

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

This is for d’Verse. It is my ode to the town hall clock which seems visible from just about everywhere in Lancaster. The theme and timing is appropriate as it will be Remembrance weekend. The feature image was taken after the service in 2001 where ironically my husband was in the remembrance parade before he became a veteran of war.

 

 

 

 

 

Author: alisonhankinson

I am a school teacher and a mum and a red cosmic skywalker, and sometimes a netball coach...but beneath it all I am a writer...

14 thoughts on “Ode to the town hall clock.”

  1. Wonderful. We call it Veteran’s Day over here, although I love Remembrance Day. I do so like how you brought the different times together. Although it isn’t in the pic, I can just see that clock ticking down the years. Sweet poem and pic as well.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. A town clock is a worthy subject of an ode. We have one in my town and it is the most photographed object in town. Your poem wove the threads of remembrance and your family history very delicately with the stalwart presence of the clock and the endless movement of time. Lovely!

    Liked by 1 person

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