Time

Editor's Note: This piece will be presented at the Winter Tales productions of Vermont Stage Company, Dec 3-7 at FlynnSpace. Reading on this podcast and during the performance is Liz Gilbert, an 8th grade actress at U-32. To hear all the Winter Tales podcasts as they will sound at the shows, click here.

Time

By Evan Wing
Rice Memorial High School, Grade 9

On a bleak and windy moonlit night,
In mid-December, dark and cold,
I stumble into a snowy ruin,
The icy shadows making it seem not as old.

A rusty iron gate bars my path,
Piled high with winters’ chilly down,
I push it open with a creak,
Entering into a frozen town.

A cobbled street can scarcely be seen
Where the ice and snow has fallen but little.
Stone columns, cracked and caked with snow
Scatter the ground, hewn down the middle.

As I walk through this abandoned haven,
The bitter wind whipping about my face,
A moonlit sparkle catches my eye.
What’s this? A watch, with the chain still in place!

The silvery lid is encrusted with ice,
The metal cold in my tingling hands.
I put my ear close to the tiny machine
To try and hear the ticking of its silvery bands.

The snow spins about me like a million insects
As I pry the lid off the jeweled face,
To reveal both hour and minute hand at midnight,
The gears and springs all frozen in place.

Now I know the purpose of this wintry ruin,
Where the ice does collect and the snow does fly.
The watch in my hand is silver proof
That this is where old Time goes to die.