Clockwork angels
Heads of glass
Wings of brass
Hang flightless in the air
Hourglass is turned
They shift in measured stride
Blinking slumber from their workings
Their bodies stuffed with gears
That would fill their bodies with life
And now they dance
Up one comes with wings out stretched
The light alights on brassy wings
Glittering in the murkiness
whirling slow to steady pace
Slanting down they glide
flapping softly with a clink
Brassy murmur
Quickly one ascends
flaunting its gleaming wings
against the night
darting here and there they play
flittering, quiver, flutter shimmer
in delicate dance
The last sand falls
sluggishly they slow
the flapping wings
sedated their heads hang low
Their dance has ceased
Clockwork angels
Heads of glass
Wings of brass
Hang flightless in the air
