Sunrise, as the day begins in gold
And soon sundials rise up from the ground,
Their shadows reach out still;
Touching the sand that pours hour upon hour,
The glass below starts to empty, but is filled.
And gives again; until the mice run down instead
Tick and Tock and chime at every hour.
Gears sparkle with the elegance of clocks,
Then spark as wires and microchips replace
Old analongs.
Numbers blink, easier read
(Until the battery is dead)
But then, as the sun begins to set again,
How shall we mark the hours?