the day the watch factory stopped.
Two by two they walked down the street.
Husbands and wives,
workers and spouses,
away from the quitting time bell,
for the last time.
The building would empty,
and there it would sit,
with it's clocktower reminder,
that would eventually stop keeping time.
The couples moved on.
They embarked on new journeys;
two by two,
as if joining Noah's ship,
they packed up and left.
The building would crumble,
brick after brick,
with no life inside,
the hands of clock had stopped.
Soon they would fall,
succumbing to the ravages of time.
Sharlene Thornton, All Rights Reserved. 8/21/13
