The Ritual

The Grandfather clock

stood,

against the wall,

waiting~~~

He'd come,

once a day,

every day,

to pull up the weights,

to wind the clock.

It was a ritual.

Cancer

took his strength,

still he'd come,

once a day,

every day,

keeping his appointment

with the waiting clock,

fulfilling the ritual.

His daughter

supported his

weakened frame,

as he pulled up the weights,

once a day,

every day,

that wound the clock,

upholding the ritual.

His heart stopped,

The clock stopped.

It still stands

against the wall,

waiting~~~

and waiting~~~

no one comes.

The ritual has expired.