Winter 2004 • Vol. XXVI No. 1 PoetryJanuary 1, 2004 |

The Lost Watch

Its hands have stopped. No one will bother it. Its face marks the corroded decision. The band which held it close to skin is gone. Such absence cannot be overcome. There were no children, no debts past due. No love. Only a faithful turning. Can hope be said to exist for it? Will some beating heart find there an echo? Even in stillness there can be learning. The endless wait may call itself fulfilled. Look how easily it lies within the grass. Half buried, it wears the gentle mood of stones. Time, which moves away in such relentless Loves and losses, has already forgiven it.

Already have an account? Login

Join KR for even more to read.

Register for a free account to read five free pieces a month from our current issue and digital archive.
Register for Free and Read This Piece



Or become a subscriber today and get complete, immediate access to our digital archives at every subscription level.

Read More

Take Off

By Alan Shapiro

Its hands have stopped. No one will bother it. Its face marks the corroded decision. The band which held it close to skin is gone. Such absence cannot be overcome. […]

Subscribe

Your free registration with Kenyon review incudes access to exclusive content, early access to program registration, and more.

Donate

With your support, we’ll continue 
to cultivate talent and publish extraordinary literature from diverse voices around the world.