Alice takes the ancient brass key
And winds up the big clock
I watch her
See her smile
It is reflected in the glass face
Perhaps we feel safe
Living in the borders
Forgetting what comes
And goes
No use crying over spilt milk
I turn the page on the calendar
Wonder what we saw on all those days
Alice turns the key so tight
We gain more time
I sigh
The clock makes a low tick tock
Like a heart beat
It lulls us off to sleep
We sleep so deep
There is no place for dreams
But we must have them
Of course
I take her hand in mine
There is a sore spot from where she held
The key
I kiss it gently
Wanting to take away the pain.
