Hands circle around
feeling the marks.
Marks that have never moved.
But have seen the world over.
These hands wring and wrought
With the misery of the world.
Holding together the
pieces of the universe.
Chains unbroken
Words unspoken
Time is the weight
On the hands that move
Around the face.
This face that watches over me.
As the master of time
Tolls its chimes.
26 Sep 97
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