Midnight Twelve

The night Mom died,

the clock in the house

stopped at twelve.

Dad never fixed it.

The years went by,

and still it stayed

frozen at twelve.

New clocks came

into the house,

but the old one remained,

silent and still,

forever at twelve.

One day, the son asked,

“Why is it still here?”

Dad softly said,

“So the hour she left

would never leave

this house.”

That night,

the son placed a chair

beneath the clock.

He thought,

“No one should sit alone

at the hour she left.”

The next morning,

the chair was empty,

And both dad

and the clock, once again,

was frozen at twelve.