Touched By Time
The hall clock stopped at five past four,
the moment my loving mother died.
She always said it would and it did,
and my dearest mother never lied.
She seemed to know about these things
and often had a supernatural sense.
A few minutes of silence would come over her
and then she’d explain what the silence meant.
When the morning wind blew in a particular way
she said that something was coming soon,
or something unexpected was going to happen
and it would before that very afternoon.
She said that she had been touched by time,
but never explained how and why.
Five past four was when she entered the world
and also the time she died.
poem by Orlando Belo
Added by Poetry Lover
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