I am Atlas

I am my Grandfather's wristwatch,

still-framed - reaching my left hand

across into eye's reach

the weight of the world

unsteady across my shoulders.

I am a bloom in the shade

stretching my neck

towards sunlight waiting

for rain to fall on fresh petals.

The droplets strobing down,

I am the time it takes each splatter

to move under foundations

of the stone beneath

your cellar--I am the mortar

holding your insides together,

safe from the downpour.

I am the lock and I am the key

on an old wooden frame.

I am the light illuminating your shame;

I am the crooked chair you'll sit on

when it rains.