It seems a day for poetry, so....

Oryx

...feedback would be nice. Bit of a lurker here, just got the courage to seek input.

Letting go.

The clock ticks. Regular, like a heartbeat
In a house, quiet and still, where people shuffle, keeping busy.
They move and wait and whisper
Drowning out the silence

Tiptoeing around a man who waits more than anyone.
Each tick, each beat, another second to grasp onto.
Another moment to hold.
For him, for us.

He is holding
Like an inhaled breath,
Bated
Waiting for release.

No-one wants the minutes to wind down
No-one wants this day to end
We gather these few, endless hours to us
And hold them close.

Till comes the time
When the clock must stop
The key put down,
The hands are stilled.
The breath released

To rise free
Of the fetters of ticking, of time.
His work done.
Our job to open our grasp. To let go.
To remain in this house, quiet and still
And hold each other.

lmtduffy

it pull back on the clichéd heartbeat=clock stuff.
I like the sentiment but feel you could do it better justice.
Try looking at all the words you have and considering what they add to the poem.

And I find it often helps to ask this question:
what are you trying to communicate with this poem?

StevoTG

I really like that poem To me, having just read it, it's about time, death, life and the people we share it with. A bit of loneliness, loss and a love of life.