The sky this morning was this weird dark midnight blue, as if it was not long past midnight...
Timekeepers
You would not think it was morning,
so dark to seem like 4am. The sky,
a strange dark blue, hangs cloudless,
perched over houses like a night bird,
heavy tempered, a somewhat scowl.
Square eyes light up across town,
stare out with an eager expectancy.
A stranger has travelled in from far,
time greater than the seconds he set.
No one sees him, these glass voyeurs,
too enrapt by the still dark heavens.
He lays this blanket everywhere he calls,
silencing speech before it thinks to rouse.
Even the magpies choose their words carefully.
He places the timer on his battered case,
judges as the sand begins to pass between.
These two worlds, he seeks to link them
before the sky has a chance to call itself day.
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, January 19, 2021
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