pocketwatch

i remembered your pocketwatch
last, the glint of yellow lamplight
as you glanced at it, before
shutting the swollen door.

you owned me as honestly
as your watch, and i felt
as smooth against the palm
of your hand as that warm metal,
bound to you by the same delicate chain.

i told something even simpler than 
the time, something that didn't change
or darken with the seasons of the year.

how disappointed you were that
i couldn't be reset, though i felt
the tightness of your fingers
fumbling at the broken switch.

Hannah Jane Sassaman



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