time
hangs off the second-hand of the clock, never quite slipping
skulks in the doorway, refusing to come in, go out
drops mud on the mat and tells me
blackberries in October belong to the devil

lips pursed in concentration
time dismantles the driving gear
examines the cogs, the springs
shakes his head
i’m not an expert, he says
it lies in pieces on the worktop
tells me nothing

the door swings shut
time out
‘you pays your money and you takes your chance’
no refund, should have read the small-print,
no walking backward, life unlearning

rattle the doorframe, time,
howl at the wind, yammer
and remember
when.