A clockface with no hands
Hangs on a wall
A yellow dressed Egyptian figure
Holds a light by a stairway
A guide for the sober and the drunk
Across town a body is laid to rest
Tears fall on the ground
Where tears have fallen before
Amidst the sympathy of strangers
Birds sing in the trees
A pensioner in fashionable ripped jeans
Sips coffee while waiting
For the years to fall away
Clinging to the memories
Of what was yesterday
People mill round in expectation
At the scene of an accident
Holding out for something dramatic
But the drama lies elsewhere
In the daily lives of us all
A clockface with no hands
Hangs on a wall
A figure dressed in blue
Comes down a staircase
Heading to the bar for a drink