Poetic Tides Through Time

2:22

“Two-ty toot two” …
Dad would always say at 2:22 each day.
I can’t help but see the clock at this hour;
He speaks to me from his bell tower.

Often as I casually eye the clock,
I smile to myself, always a little shock
to see 2:22– and think of Dad
who daily noted, (a hint sad,)
the same passing of time-
everyday,

Each time, he made it seem like
a new unusual event, a psych;
He and I, we both knew the truth;
I played along, wistful coy youth
Besides, it was more fun that way
and he expected me to play.

His blue eyes would twinkle,
his grin wore a lopsided crinkle,
but always sincere and serious
and yet, subtlety mysterious;
as if he discovered an ocean
and loathe to share the notion-
his secret.

Dad, I look for those silly two’s;
“Two-ty toot two….” sends new
treasured greetings from you.

____________________________________________
Entry: April 22, 2017
Prompt: Two of something, doubleness
For: Dew Drop Inn Poetry Workshop
Form: Stanzaic
Syllabic Meter: 8,9; not consistent
Rhyme Pattern: aabbx,etc; irregular


Comentary ▼

         This is now a lovely memory, but it is an uncanny feeling when I glance at the clock and see the symmetrical alignment of three numbers - and yes, I smile.

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.~~Robert Frost