Remembrance of Things Past

Lucky 13.  This is a poem about something I hear most mornings, letting me know the day is about to begin.

                                                                        

                                            Remembrance of Things Past

                                    Every morning at 4:45,

a long forgotten wrist watch,

stuffed in some dresser drawer

or abandoned in the desk,

emits a faint electronic chirp

It’s time….I’m here….It’s time….I’m here

-and then stops before anyone

gets up to find it,

let alone figure out

how to turn it off.