The Second Hand

The second hand,
on my electric clock,
patiently moves around and around,
every minute,
every day,
every month,
and every year.

He takes just a little energy
to do his duty, and,
like Sisyphus, never complains,
despite his boring task.

I suppose he makes the minute hand move,
which in turn makes the hour hand move.
This wouldn't amount to much
but these movements determine
when we work,
when we eat,
when we play,
and when we sleep.

If I was a second hand
I'd take frequent naps when no one was looking,
and then speed up at dawn
to get to where I am supposed to be.