The Sundial.

The Sundial.
You stand on a column in the gardens,
mounted on a circular base,
cast in metal you can tell the time,
on your shadowy face.
The rolling vista in your sight,
is sometimes dappled with light.
Your spirit is still dancing,
around the spherical phase.
It seemed like the perfect place.
I know you still tick-tock.
And the full Moon show,
will make your pretty face glow.
I know you still tick-tock.
When the gardens are empty,
and the Sun is on the other side of the block.
I know you still tick-tock.
I'm glad we lived on this little rock.
2007
© MARCO MOONE 2008

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