Grandfather Clock

My father says life is like a pendulum-

-I think it is a pendulum of a single swing

     we are babes

          we are men

               we are old

                    and then, the

                         pendulum freezes-

or does it break in its swing,

oh so violent in its final stroke

or - do we swing back (to life?)

                           from old

                       to men

                   to babes

then back again?

     ...to something else?

     do we turn to birds?

soar to a lie in the sky

          or 

sink to a fear in the ground.

     Oh wise Grandfather clock!

that stands so patriarchal

    over the graves and airs of men,

Where does your pendulum place us? 

-Tell me how 
     you keep on swinging on

after your maker has been gone
   for so long.

Backside of Fear

I’m getting my back back,

     My Mama says “There, there.” 

The world screams “Attack! Attack!”

     My brothers say “Here. Here.” 

All I can feel is this Hack’s hack,

     Fighting to breathe; “What does Fear fear?”