COWBOY POETRY: The Old Clock

Bryce Angell is a cowboy poet. Angell was raised on a farm/ranch in the St. Anthony, Idaho area with approximately 75 head of horses. Horses remain an important part of Angell's life.  Angell shares his poetry with Cache Valley Daily every Friday.

For thirty years I’ve owned the clock my grandma gave to me. Her clock is mounted on my desk for family to see.

She said, “Please take care of my clock and wind it every day. Your grandpa gave it to me, said he found it on display.”

My clock is very special and was built to make it last. It’s a hundred year old relic and a part of Grandma’s past.

I’ve tried to do what Grandma asked. I wound her clock each morn. But all those years of winding left my fingers sore and worn.

My rheumatoid arthritis didn’t help much with the pain. So when I’d wind the clock each day, I felt I’d go insane.

I’d even hear the ticking every night time in a dream. I still remember those nightmares. Perhaps you heard me scream!

Each early morning in my bed I’d hear the lone tick-tock. I knew it would be soon that I’d be cranking on the clock.

But then one day my grandma’s clock got bumped and hit the floor. My old-time clock would not wind up, no ticking anymore.

I realized the time was right to get this clock new hands. I’d find a way to make it run. Hoped Grandma understands.

The jeweler opened up the clock and made it wind up free. My clock keeps right on ticking. Now it runs on battery.

I’d have to say how nice it was to have my clock again. But my clock was not the same. It was better way back when.

So I’d like to give the clock away to someone who would care. I think my grandma wouldn’t mind. She taught me how to share.

And when I buy another clock it won’t be one that winds. I’ve learned my lesson once before. There are clocks of many kinds.

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