The clock ticks
but Time
has stopped
paying attention.
The clock
is left
talking to itself.
Time has eloped
with Death.
Memory searches
everywhere for you.
You have become
a night of stars
that the Past
holds to itself
the rain of twenty
years ago
stll falls
in the mind
empty of knowing
connecting nothing
to nothing
the line
erasing itself
as it is
drawn.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/call-me-al-for-ruthie/
