The Last Street Clock in Brooklyn

down on manhattan ave
taking stock of his plight
his cast-iron greying
his face faint in the night
his hands ever moving
well attuned to the time
the last street clock in brooklyn
prays an end to this life

//

perennial beating
his heart not quite of flesh
a century upright
surely could not arrest
he has moved only once
when ole bomelstein left
the last street clock in brooklyn
stands wistfully erect

//

his neighbors, once gentle
turned callous and removed
the trolleys, the vaudeville
even the sky of blue
the sidewalk, still crowded
from a different crop hewn
the last street clock in brooklyn
not remiss in his gloom

//

but when i cross his path
a witness to his weep
he says let me lie still
anachronistic sleep
there's no room for relics
no soul here left to reap
the last street clock in brooklyn
has burrowed far too deep

//

i won't let this point stand
can't let confidence fray
futile survivor's guilt
will not stop the decay
peter pan still slings dough
greenpoint kids still at play
the last street clock in brooklyn
i beseech you, please stay