the mighty grinding of cogs n' wheels,
heaves these afflicted hands
from one to twelve & back to one.
here each minute an hour beckons,
each whispering two different tales.
one of the moon & one of the sun.
from within the infinity of the numbers twelve,
the admonishing tick-tock tongue
asks of me but one question
"what will you do with this gift, my son?"
happy new year folks. 2012 is here. so what will you do this year?