Guardians of My Wrist

how these guardians have
changed their connotation.
photography, still photography –
lifeless likenesses,
mannequins hanging in the air.
from art to art that captures art –
to the frozen face of
melodies.
his melodies, his words
that enrapture us,
the lowly, hoping crowd.
and now they are
the safekeepers of
my wrist.
should my desperations ever lead
me to them they'll
find the right words
all in their wordless stance.
and beyond that
they now mark
the evening they appeared,
the life they live within,
the poet
whose song
kept that life
on
living.