Near the Black Forest

Living in a house
near the Black Forest,
without any clocks,
she's begun

to listen to the walls.
Her neighbors have clocks,
not one
but twenty clocks apiece.

Sometimes
a claque of clocks
applauds
the passing of each day.

Listen to the walls
& wind your watch.
Poor love, poor love,
have they caught you

by the pendulum?
Do they think they've
got you stopped?
Have you

already gathered how,
living near the Black Forest,
she gets by
on cups of borrowed time?

poem by Erica Jong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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