07 October 2017 12:00 AM

Timers break. I can't believe how dependent I am on my timer, until it dies on me! What did I do, heat it to death, did my magnetic personality fry its itty-bitty circuits? Makes me want to contemplate man and his, her, it, dependence on knowing WHAT TIME it is!
Ah, I like that I see a sand clock in my minds eye, turn the goblet over and watch it slowly drip down, golden eye, now I like that, wonder if you can halve a fifteen minute glass, can't remember what they are called,
sunlight at the ridge at the hilltop, a bright but muted sunlight, this is dawn, a hesitation, the man hooked up his horse to the wagon, making sure the reins were loose, the reins are black, like the wagon, this horse is white though not a personal choice, sometimes you are mated by chance, the universe has a different plan for you the old man and horse got along together just fine, tossing his head up then down the horse proceeded down the lane, clip clop cha cha, there are apple trees here, pull one down, nibble it's harvest time, the girl in the torn jeans runs through the grass, her white shirt is dirty with sweat and grass stains, she doesn't care hair caught up by a bandanna, her father's, she sits by the doorstop, the bench is painted green.