A ticking clock,
The pendulum swings
side to side.
A pointer to the past,
a pointer to the future.
Slowly she creeps in,
this new year.
Her tempo, the pace
of the grandmother’s heart.
Silent, steady, ready to shed
the skin of wishing,waiting, wanting ,
watching the pendulum swishing,
her hands pushing out the past,
and reaching for the future.
And when the final bell chimes,
she clothes in her case
those who have closed the door.
Copyright. Talia Hardy. 30.12.2011.