105

He sits at dusk in the back
Of the workshop where he
Can hear the rain and he
Waits for a cup of tea to
Cool that is sitting by the
Abstracted insides of an
Old steel and gold pendulum
Clock. His small, dry hand
Moves as if automated over
The wooden surface of the
Bench lifting up components
And replacing them in turn.
There is a tiny pair of pliers
In his mouth, and his off
Hand rests on a large vice.
Behind a pair of glasses his
Eyes are lost in reflection;
But they are there, moving,
Restlessly, from part to part.
When his movement ceases
The tea has cooled and he
Drinks it entirely and sits
Back in his chair for a long
Time listening to the rain
And to the precise working
Of his internal mechanism.
60 beats per minute, bipartite.