In the last minute of the first hour.

humor, poetry, time, ,

My man and I laughed out loud over coffee and Wendy Cope’s poems this morning. I’ve had time and memory on my mind lately so I especially appreciated a lighthearted treatment of the subject in this one:

A Nursery Rhyme
as it might have been written 
by T.S. Eliot

 

Because time will not run backwards
Because time
Because time will not run
                                         Hickory dickory
In the last minute of the first hour
I saw the mouse ascend the ancient timepiece,
Claws whispering like wind in dry hyacinths.
One o’clock,
The street lamp said,
‘Remark the mouse that races towards the carpet.’
And the unstilled wheel still turning
                                                          Hickory dickory
                                                          Hickory dickory

dock

— Wendy Cope             

3 thoughts on “In the last minute of the first hour.”

  2. What a marvellous poem! I'm going to read it to the children.

    Dear Thomas Stearns. He gave us so much to wonder at. I still hope that J Alfred Prufrock did dare, in the end, to eat a peach..

    Like

    Reply

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