Stopped Time

In the heart of a skyscraper forest,
among cables hanging like steel branches,
a pocket watch lies small and still,
witness to a time that dares to remain.
Time halts within the gear’s soft breath,
a held sigh that quiets the whole city.
People wander late within their own selves,
while glass and mist gaze into silence.
The hands, frozen, smell of brass and rain,
the dust dances like snow in summer’s heat.
The streets look like rivers that flow nowhere,
and the air retains a quiet breath.
Perhaps tomorrow time will start to spin again,
but this moment stays etched by tower and breath.
A flower in the metal, high as a promise,
that we cannot picture yet will never break.