© 1996 by Donet Meynell Clayton
There are two murderers in my room,
Day and night waging silent war:
Two illumined hands on a field of time.
I can shut my door against disaster,
I can close my heart against war,
But I can never escape
The tick of their stealthy weapons.
The sins of the silver sword are manifold;
He murders minutes.
But the shorter rogue is the greater villain;
Steady and cautious, with infinite precision
He thrusts his dagger into the full breast of a poignant hour.