A warm glow dies and
The room is dusty dark.

Liquid specimens peer out
From their jars.
Creatures freeze mid-pounce.

This curious collection,
This unusual ark
Neatly labeled and sorted.

Cases of Marrakech brown
And panels of wavy,
Worn glass.

Fingering the new pocket watch,
A gift of brushed trinket gold,
He was their Noah.

He no longer needs to know the time.

Skeleton key left on the desk,
A hand on the comforting knob,
He locks the door behind him.

Paint chip colorsI recently entered a poetry contest, open to the entire college campus where I work. We had to choose a paint chip and use the color names in the poem. My submission won!

When I read the colors on my paint card, I immediately pictured a old-style natural history museum with bell jars and cabinets of stuffed animals. Then something about the pocket watch made me think of a retirement gift, and the man who is reluctant to leave his post looking over the creatures in the museum.

3 thoughts on “A Gift of Time”

  1. I just found these writing exercises while “flâneur”ing around your webpage. These are so cool. I can’t wait to try some of them! Meaghan, thanks for the inspiration!

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