This Poem was Submitted By: Janet A. Burg On Date: 2001-03-08 23:48:09 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Timepiece

Older watches with luminescent paint  no longer glow. Sometimes only one hand works, or half the numbers,  or hands but not numbers. Many substances were used to  get watch dials to behave like this;  not everything was radium.   I worried that the painted dial of  my father’s watch and the black clock taken from a German plane  would make us radioactive. I stopped watching for the A Bomb, listening for its ticking, when I went to school though we had bomb drills. Brilliant white  is still quite frightening.

Copyright © March 2001 Janet A. Burg


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