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by Chris Sorrenti

for Eleanor Sutton (nee Armitage)
RIP 1949-2013

I was reminded at a funeral for a cousin today
each of us has an invisible stopwatch on the top of his /her head
an ethereal finger pressed the start button
arguably sometime between conception and the moment we were born

Our personal stopwatch follows us wherever we go
with the seconds minutes hour hand racing around and around
creating a paradox an illusion in that time itself
often seems to move faster while other times slow

At the funeral those of us who were left
laughed comfortably about our own approaching demise
with walking canes and dialysis machines insulin and hypertension
not one soul left untouched by the stopwatch’s shadow

For most of us when in our youth it ran smoothly
with Swiss accuracy despite the occasional flutter
and if it stopped anywhere along the way
there were others with their own stopwatches to get ours going again

Today at the funeral Eli’s best friend gave the eulogy
as she reminded us of all the good things one person can do and be
despite the aches and pains diseases and heart attacks
pretty good for a timepiece not meant to last much past fifty years

© 2013

700 hits as of November 2020


Posted on 08/13/2013
Copyright © 2021 Chris Sorrenti

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 08/13/13 at 07:25 PM

Wow, Chris, this seems such a young age to go. I really enjoyed the stop watch metaphor and especially that last stanza.

Posted by George Hoerner on 08/14/13 at 12:10 AM

My stop watch has been repaired a time or two and I appreciate the work that some doctors have done for me. But alas my time grows shorter and shorter. It could be 20 yrs or 20mins.

Posted by Johnny Crimson on 08/14/13 at 06:27 PM

I've got a cheap Chinese Timex. I'm so screwed. I throughly enjoyed this. :)

Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 08/15/13 at 12:58 PM

This is a written with the precision of a watchmaker and the sounds it makes are soothing and waxing philosophic and do nothing less than captivate.

Posted by Rob Littler on 08/16/13 at 05:46 AM

Sorry for your loss. The poem makes me wonder when whomever has their finger on my button is going to push, how frantic we all could live each ticking moment...and why we kid ourselves into thinking we are immortal in our youth...we can't handle our own unavoidable truths...our one truth...knowing I am born with an end in mind, but not realized, perpetuating a desire to care in a false reality, propagating the Matrix! The Tyranny must end! But seriously, sorry for your loss. And thanks!

Posted by Britt Zimmerman on 08/23/13 at 07:30 PM

beautiful and thought provoking! Love it!

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