picture-it-write-40; Each Tock

–

–

–

Each Tock

I caressed my grandmother’s paper-skin face. She  was weary and trembling. How much longer did she have to live? I watched as the life leaked out of her, in the form of tears. I gripped onto her hand. With the last morsels of energy, she pulled something out from the drawer and dropped it into my palm. It was a peculiar watch, with a rib-cage for the cover. “Use it wisely,” she whispered and she never spoke again.

- Ermisenda Alvarez

I stared down at it as the tears flowed from my eyes, remembering the poem she had recited to me when I was still just a child;

With each tock
of the clock
minutes go by

Never still
hours will
just seem to fly

The time’s set
don’t forget
before you die

In their sum
dreams won’t come
if you never try!

Somehow, at this very moment in time, within the anguish of my grief, I heard her sweet voice saying those words once again.  I always had wondered, then in my youth, what it all really meant.  Now I know!

Teresa Marie  8/25/12 ©

__picture it & write by Ermilia

About these ads