The Clock Beneath the River
Tick tock it’s warning tune
The Clock Beneath the River
There is a clock beneath the river.
It ticks where no sound can live.
I saw it once through broken water,
a shimmer that trembled like breath.
The hands were turning against the current,
marking moments long forgotten.
I wondered if they measured loss,
or only how long it takes to forget.
I reached down, but time is not kind.
It cut through my fingers like memory.
I watched my reflection ripple away,
another ghost among the stones.
The river keeps its secrets close.
It never answers, only moves.
And still, beneath that restless skin,
the clock keeps ticking, unseen but certain.
About the Creator
George’s Girl 2026
I've been writing poetry since the age of 10. With pen in hand, I wander the realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture you ❤️#Marie381UkWrites
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Comments (1)
The clock of memories this one seems to be about. One must remember but stay focused on the present for the sake of the future. Good job.