Seth Thomas Tower

PHOTOGRAPHER'S JOURNAL:

To Eli Terry and his Four-Dollar Clocks

We rode the even gait of time

like cowboys on the drive,

easy in the saddle;

or like turnips and beans

in the black earth.

Daybreak opened our eyes

as the cock opened our ears;

we made music

when there was moonshine.

Until the wooden wheels of time,

the even grinding of their teeth

reset the axis of the earth

so equal moments fill each hour,

snug as cans sealed in a carton.

We sleep while the sun shines

or party 'til dawn

or work the nightshift

to moonlight at daybreak.