A Poem, The Watch Fixer

The Watch Fixer
Humming traffic, a plus ten breeze, radio on, and a cup of Oolong,
And the watch fixer drives silently in an electric car
To learn foreign languages from people on island time.

Aging mother upstairs unnoticed,
And she dines alone,
As her Rolexed arm ticks.

Hovering over the miniscule cogs of a ten thousand dollar accessory,
She carefully places a tiny screw in place,
And looks from behind magnifying glassed eyes
At stopped time on a work bench.

A sigh.

Quiet, with only the ticking of fixed watches,
The watch fixer eats healthy food and does yoga,
While the world fails to notice her for good or bad
Regardless of her Rolexed wrist,
And eyes that can see the gears of time in their most intricate, detailed form.

Taking her glasses off on a humid day,
The watch fixer looks out a wood framed window
At a crack in a bonsai tree branch.

The sundial at the centre of the city shades noon,
And a millionaire glances at his Rolex,
Realizing he is late,
As his time piece says ten and has for some time.

Tum tee dum de
Tick tock clock,
And the knock knock
On the door,
Tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock.