Pure Poetry

The Watch

I have a watch I said-watch.
A marvel of mechanical magic, held out before me.
The phases of the moon, stars and mythical creatures
Whirl in an arc across it’s face.
I opened it to show my sister, it moved in my hand.

Ptolemy the immortal gave us a show,
A heaven of spheres spin and shrink-
One inside the other with the Earth at it’s core.
“I don’t understand this.” Sister halted us with a comment.

Bravely the watch went on as through a gallery we walked.
Before us came dioramas and chimes
Spelling out the story of it all.

Curiosity got the better of her,
Sister stuck her fingers into the cogs,
and the universe altered.
One stone broke off the French Renaissance.
Sister was upset, “I’m sorry I faltered.”
I panicked and gasped “But I just bought this.”
So I surveyed in puzzlement as Ptolemy’s servants
Glued the pieces back together in ignorant bliss.

We continued in time.
It was really quite comical;
Things disappeared right out of our minds,
As monks wrote nonsense in the dark.
Boats wouldn’t float and planets flew on their own.
Strangest of all- people walked backward,
As they pointed ahead crying” This way, this way.”

At last I put the marvel in my pocket for safekeeping,
But when I reached for it later, all I found were loose parts
Mixed in with spare change.
“Oh no!” I cried in dismay,
But somehow I knew,
It would rebuild itself without me.

This poem was based on a dream I had many years ago after purchasing a pocket watch. It's one of the last great vivid dreams I've ever had. These days, my dreams aren't worth shit.