i am cold, sometimes
in the shining sun
and hot amidst
a winter’s ice
so strange to be
a broken barometer
where lows are highs
and wets are drys
but really
i would have it
no other way
with a spring
out of place here
and a cog loose
over there
why its a kind of character
i suppose
something that causes
me to click
to whir in a way
that turns some heads
and in looking
i might be seen