Art.
Had you done that for livelong years, as I,
You’d be in just the case that touches me,
More so if every night you got to dreaming
You had the old-time post still in your care.
I make machine-like grasp with my right hand
Toward my left hand’s pulse-tick, counting, counting,
And counting off to sixty ere the thought
Comes over me I am a clock no more.
Moses.