The Second Hand - by Ailsa Poll

9. September 2005

The second hand appears to move in reverse,
instinct and logic converge to form a morass of emotion.
Reason being, for being, the sun warming the disillusioned.
The veil draws away, tears flow.
A gentle breeze stirs the leaves, emphasising normality.
Lack of reason spilling in, grasped by freedom, opening worlds.
A tiny frame remains never to be erased.
A kiss. A hug. A smile.

The multiplication of implication.
The sum of joy.

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