Old clocks

Bart Wolffe


A birthday poem for Veronica Aldous

I built my home with old clocks

Even when they stopped chiming.

Paint stains preferred to pristine walls

And filled the rooms with the oven’s breath

And the sound of silences singing.

I made my home a feather quilt,

A place to hide from mortgages,

I collected friends like rag dolls and books

Whose pages knew my fingers.

I have a home called memory

Whose rooms are uncountable.

When you visit, leave me a smile

To store in one of my secret cupboards.

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About Veronica Aldous

Writer and artist, Veronica is a lecturer is Fine Art and Creative Writing. Her first book of poems, 'Moon Cinema' is now available on Lulu.com. Now there is also 'Mortal' her second book.
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One Response to Old clocks

  1. Many happy returns of the day.


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