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My father's inheritance, or mine from him: a gold Bulova, bought no doubt with household funds because he fancied it like it was a woman and when he died, it passed to me and I held to it until the day the upstairs plumbing burst to make an end to it: not waterproof not shockproof and needing daily winding. Like him and, I fear, like me who had inherited it like a shiny curse. and there came an end to it. Ken On 9/23/2014 1:27 PM, Max Richards wrote: > several nice turns of phrase and feeling here, Bill. > At this point, however, I sense a chance of drama lost: > > Presented > in a crimson Bullova box, > the only surviving remnant, > > watch forgotten in squash > change room long ago. > > Max in Seattle > > On Sep 23, 2014, at 11:48 PM, Bill Wootton <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > >> Grandma Beat gave it to me >> for my tenth birthday, the dial, >> the size of the new ten cent bit, >> just right for my narrow wrist. >> >> Thin red second hand jerking >> over solid black numbers, >> luminous lime on gold >> outlined other hands. >> >> Stiff brown leather band >> with flimsy buckle. Presented >> in a crimson Bullova box, >> the only surviving remnant, >> >> watch forgotten in squash >> change room long ago. >> Box still in fine working order, >> now contains badges, >> >> also once worn: The Clash, >> No Nukes, Legalise It >> and, already obsolete, >> a pea-green iPod nano. >> >> Time was on everybody's >> hands back then. Wrist ready. >> Today digital numbers leap >> from mobile phones. >> >> Does it mean anything >> to anyone any more >> to tap on your naked >> wrist interrogatively? >> >> Grandma ran out of time >> a year after gifting me. >> The old box, having seen >> off what it contained >> >> may yet outlive its >> worn wearer. >> >> >> bw