My Timekeeper

The metal buckle grasps my wrist,
the stains drenched with memories.
Corners are gathering dust,
the glass has cracked-
the durable plastic wears away.

Every time I glance
a paradox of emotions drown me
my watch's weight grounds me
I carry the spirit of the giver
with me

The numbers mesmerise me
like I could travel back to the past
or forward to the future.
Without it,
I feel empty,
lost in time,
like a watch without a function

I feel safe, happy
as the metal buckle grasps my wrist.

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This poem was Highly Commended (Primary) for Poetry Object 2016

Judge's Notes:
This definite poem is about the power of the object, the thing that is almost body, corporeal, visceral – that grasps the wrist. The images remind us forcefully of the physical thinginess of objects. This is reinforced by the title; ‘My’ it says, this is part of me. And like the watch band, the poem is full of links, link to memory and the giver of the object, as well as that direct physical skin-link of self to object. The poem also performs a form of circularity, like the face of a watch, the way the hands move around a watch, indeed, the way time is cyclical. The poem also reminds us that time is a thing as well as a process.
~ Jill Jones, Judge, Poetry Object 2016